


231 Days: Abridged Edition (Original Version)

by KrypticReaux



Series: 231 Days and The Darker Chronicles [1]
Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Angst and Fluff, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angsty angsty angst, Eventual Fluff, F/M, I'm going to the "special hell", Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, MC is actually my OC, MC is the HERO!!, Multi, My First AO3 Post, My First Fanfic, Psychological Torture, Rescue, Skip chapter 4 if you're squeamish!, Smut, Torture, Yoosung's 3rd bad end broke my heart...so I fixed it...sort of..., bad things happen to my sweetheart, badass babe saves the day, darkness comes before the dawn, little references and easter eggs from other fandoms ;), my poor baby, sorry Saeran...I'll make this up to you!, the one for child molesters and people who talk at the theater
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-18
Updated: 2017-07-20
Packaged: 2018-12-03 17:02:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 15
Words: 45,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11536563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KrypticReaux/pseuds/KrypticReaux
Summary: THIS IS AN ABRIDGED VERSION.  This is the way it originally appeared when I first published it in July 2017.  Visit my profile page to find the expanded version.  If you're here for the angst, that's the version you want!Link to Expanded Edition:  http://archiveofourown.org/works/12606944/chapters/28717356*****Over seven months ago, 707 and Yoosung infiltrated Mint Eye headquarters to neutralize the imminent danger to the RFA--but only Seven came back. Yoosung, determined to ensure the success of the mission, and the safety of the girl he loves, stayed behind, and is captured by Unknown. Both of them have now disappeared without a trace, and it's looking more and more likely that hope is lost. Eleanora, however, refuses to give up on the boy she loves more than anything else in the world, and nothing will stop her from finding him--and bringing him home.This story is part of a series--the next part of the series is called "Sunrise", and you can find it on my profile page!





	1. No Power in the Universe

**Author's Note:**

> This is the story of what happened after Yoosung’s 3rd bad ending...minus the bratty, self-interested behavior by MC that leads to that ending.  
> It's extremely important to know as you get into this story, that this is the first part of a series. I'm creating a story arc that will, at its core, be about sacrifice, redemption, and an unbreakable love that's powerful enough to overcome any barrier that gets in its way.  
> This first part is the "darkness before dawn". And it is, indeed, very dark.  
> Please heed the warnings...this is not for the squeamish.  
> I promise that I'm not as twisted as my writing might suggest! Believe me, this was not easy to write...I lost sleep on several occasions while writing this story. In order to fully define the themes of this story that I listed above, there had to first be some terrible darkness from which to emerge. There are several cliches that describe this: the darkness before the dawn; the storm before the rainbow, etc.  
> Also, I am a fiercely protective person; someone who needs to be needed and who needs to protect the ones I love...like my OC (Eleanora). When I first played the game, I got Yoosung's route first (because, duh, he's my perfect match). I fell for him--really, really hard. I've gotten all of his endings (except bad relationship endings...can't bring myself to do those), and there's not a single damn one where he doesn't get hurt. My poor, sweet baby. The third bad end, however, just killed me...and inspired me to write a story where my OC refuses to sit back and just accept that he's gone. She's stubborn, determined, and maybe even a bit foolish, but dammit, she's going to get out there and save her love, or die trying...even if she has to go it alone.  
> So, here is the result.  
> Oh, and another thing. This sweet boy may be portrayed in the game and seen by some as weak, whiny, needy, annoying, a crybaby, etc. (especially in V's route *see note below)... but I would like to argue that he’s TOUGH…perhaps the toughest principal character in the game (with the possible exception of the legendary badass babe, Jaehee Kang...love her so much!). Think about it…despite being the “baby” of the group, and having a shit-ton of emotional baggage to deal with, he is constantly trying his best to do better and become a better person once MC shows up in his life. He put himself on the line for her—basically threw his life away, because he loves her. Through everything...all the unspeakable things that happen to him, he never breaks—he never gives up. This is one of the main messages I want to convey in this story. This boy has strength and resilience that is seriously underrated.  
> *A note on V's route: I had a somewhat spirited discussion with a friend about how Yoosung behaves in V's route, and my argument was that Yoosung is still just a baby in this route (okay, maybe I'm kinda old...and maybe my "friend" is actually my daughter...okay, I admitted it. T-T). Anyway, he's just a few months out from a devastating loss that he can't even begin to come to terms with, because he has no answers, no absolutions, and no closure. She was a crucial part of his support system; a huge influence, and someone he loved dearly...and, suddenly, she's just...gone. How on earth is he supposed to cope with that? How can he move forward? Meanwhile, Rika's ran off to Crazyville to create her little paradise, not even waiting just one more freaking day so that she could at least go to her cousin's graduation. And V--yes, he has some very admirable qualities, but I find it unforgivable that he was the one closest to Rika, the one who knew how unstable she was, and the one in the best possible position to intervene--and he didn't. As noble as his intentions were, he was still very hubristic to think that he could have handled Rika on his own.  
> I chose not to involve either V or Rika in this story, simply because I wanted to keep my focus on Yoosung and Eleanora. I may as well mention upfront that I deviate slightly from canon later in this series by eliminating Yoosung's parents from the story (in my HC, they died when he was young). Again, this was to simplify the focus of the story. As I develop my story arc, I may end up bringing V and/or Rika in, at which point I might need to go back and make some adjustments.  
> Anyway...I hope you enjoy the beautiful mess I've made here! I've enjoyed this little escape from reality in writing this story. Yes, I'm probably a bit old for this, and it might seem strange that someone my age is even into this game, but...oh well! If you have any encouragement, ideas, suggestions, criticisms (be nice, please! I'm actually a bit scared to put this out here as it is!)...or if you just want to say hello, PLEASE leave comments! I love my readers, and I want to know what you think!

**Chapter 1: No Power in the Universe...**

Day 229—December 23rd

* * *

 

3:27pm

 

It was the day before Christmas Eve, and a cold, light rain was falling outside the apartment window, softly kissing her window before running down the glass in erratic streams.  The sky was an impassive gray mist.  Eleanora reclined on her bed, clutching her pillow to her chest.  She could feel her own heartbeat, amplified by the fluff that filled the pillow; though, exactly how that heart managed to find the willpower to keep on beating mystified her. 

It had been seven months since she last knew he was safe.  Seven months, two weeks, three days, two hours and nineteen minutes, to be precise.  She always knew the exact count, because she still had the record of the last chat room where she had talked to him.  She replayed the chat, along with all of the others she had saved, over and over, just to see his words and hear his sweet voice in her mind.  It was one of the few connections to him she had left, one of the few gossamer ribbons of hope that held her sanity together. 

The agonizing, but all too familiar thought process—a treacherous, sinister mire that attempted to engulf her mind on a daily basis:

_Where was he?_

_Was he okay?_

_Was he still...   ?_

Eleanora interrupted her own thought angrily. 

_We are not going there…not today._

She forcefully shifted her errant mind away from the thoughts that she would never be ready to cope with.

 ** _He is still alive_** , she told herself fiercely anytime that unwelcome question dared to intrude her thoughts, like a noxious weed. 

She still felt him, every second of every hour.  Surely, she wouldn’t feel his life force embracing her aura, if he was not still present in this plane of existence. 

_Would he ever come back to her?_

And the most pressing question burning in her exhausted mind…

 _WHY?_  

Why did this have to happen?  To him?  

 _To her Yoosung_. 

Eleanora had experienced the greatest miracle of her life seven months ago in finding her heart’s most precious treasure—particularly considering the rather strange and unorthodox way they were brought together in the first place. 

One random, ordinary day last spring, she had discovered a weird app on her phone that she didn’t recall installing.  It was a messenger app she had never heard of before, through which she was contacted by a complete stranger who went by the title of “Unknown”, who had then led her to an apartment in the city.  She probably never should have gone to some weird place at the behest of a weird person she had never met--but there was some odd curiosity (or was it more like a  _compulsion_?)  that made her do it, overriding her better judgement.  

After she arrived at the apartment, she was connected to a chat room within the app, where she had then encountered—and subsequently joined—an organization known as RFA…Rika’s Fundraising Association.  This is how she met the people who would quickly become her most cherished friends:  Jaehee Kang, Jumin Han, Zen, Seven …and Yoosung Kim. 

Sweet, sweet Yoosung.  

Her prince...her baby-angel...her shooting star...her Yoosung.  She was drawn to him from that very first awkward encounter in the RFA chatroom.  He had seemed a little scared of her at first, but he had this sweet innocence about him that grabbed at her heart and melted it into a puddle of giddiness. 

The youngest in the group at only 21 years old, Yoosung was a college student with sunny blonde hair, and magical amethyst eyes that managed to be both complex and mysterious---and at the same time, completely transparent, innocent and pure.  He was the embodiment of warm sunshine and gentle rain—the kind of rain that gently kisses your face and hair, smells of rainbows and freshly-cut grass, and makes you want to take off your shoes and dance in it.  So full of life, light, and optimism; he possessed a heart of gold.  Yoosung was everything she loved about life, and everything she wanted her life to be.

Initially, for him, the biggest attraction to Eleanora was his perception that she was similar to his late cousin, Rika, who had passed away two years earlier.  Her sudden death, by apparent suicide, had been a tremendously devastating blow to Yoosung, who was just about to graduate from high school at the time.  He lost all direction when Rika left the world, and he wanted more than anything to think of Eleanora as a replacement to fill the aching void in his heart.  

However, Eleanora had lovingly and patiently guided him to the realization that she was not Rika, nor a replacement for her, and he fell in love with her in her own right.   In doing this, she had managed to break through the deep sadness that he felt at the loss of his beloved cousin, and she had given him a powerful new reason to be a better person every day.  She made him whole; she made him understand what it was to be loved, and to want to live for someone else.  _And oh, how he loved her for it._

Each of them were everything the other needed; so well did their hearts fit together, filling in the gaps in each other.  As cliché as it sounds, there's not a better way to put it:  they truly were  _made for each other,_  souls woven together with the threads of fate.  Where most couples take weeks, months, or even years to accomplish all of this, Eleanora and Yoosung only needed 10 days—and a messaging app. 

However, fate’s grandest tapestries are rarely ever woven together in ways that are simple and straightforward.  Yoosung and Eleanora’s path to happiness together would soon prove to be far from easy. 

Ironically, the stranger who orchestrated their meeting would also be the one that stood between them—and threaten to destroy them and everything they held dear.  This mysterious individual, who called himself simply “Unknown”, had used Eleanora to infiltrate the RFA, against which he had a madman’s vendetta.  Nobody knew exactly  _why_  he longed to see the RFA’s destruction.

Once she had unwittingly allowed him the level of access the malevolent hacker had long been trying to obtain, he was able to set into motion a terrifying plot which, if he had his way, would ultimately lead to her end, along with the end of the RFA itself.  The members of the RFA were left scrambling to eliminate the danger.  Yoosung swore to do anything he had to do—even if it meant forfeiting his own life—to protect the girl he loved more dearly than life itself.

So, on that fateful spring day seven months ago, Seven—a highly-skilled special agent with mind-boggling abilities in hacking and manipulating technology to his will—announced that he had discovered the base of operations for the organization from which Unknown was acting.  He had planned to go to the location himself to infiltrate and neutralize the danger.  However, Yoosung had insisted upon going with him, and nobody could talk him out of it.  Eleanora was in the most immediate danger, and Yoosung was adamant about personally protecting her at all costs.

Despite Seven’s skill and effort and Yoosung's help, things went wrong.  When they had been discovered, Yoosung had created a distraction by tackling Unknown while Seven got away with the crucial information needed to take down the threats against the RFA, as well as the detonation device that would have set off the bomb planted in the apartment where Eleanora was trapped. 

Together, they had saved her—and everyone else in the RFA--from danger.  In the analysis of the information collected, it’s likely that many, many more lives had potentially been at stake, and were now safe because of what Yoosung and Seven accomplished that day. 

But, this victory came with a terrible price...an unacceptable price...paid by Yoosung, who was unable to get away and was captured by Unknown.

An immediate and sizable search and rescue effort was made—one of the biggest in the country’s history.  Jumin Han, corporate heir and chairman of the board of directors at his father’s company, used his considerable fortune and clout to hire some of the world’s most advanced and renowned search and rescue organizations to comb every inch of the region. 

A temporary headquarters for the search effort was opened just outside of the city, where teams would meet, share information, strategize and plan search parties.  There was also a phone bank where operators would make calls to citizens and businesses asking for any reports or tips. 

Eleanora had stayed there for the first week after Yoosung’s disappearance, even “sleeping” there overnight (though she didn’t really sleep, she only laid down on a cot in a back room at the insistence of her RFA friends). 

She volunteered wherever she could, sometimes sitting in at strategy meetings, and sometimes working in the phone bank.  Sometimes, she would accompany search teams in the field.  Other times, she would work in the kitchen at headquarters, making meals for the workers and volunteers.  She devoted every waking moment of her life to helping the search effort, doing anything she could.

Doing  _something_ —no matter how small or seemingly insignificant—that could possibly help bring her sweetheart home to her, was better far better than just sitting and letting her wandering mind slowly erode her grasp on sanity. 

The search consumed her.  She completely immersed herself in the efforts, while every media outlet in the country ran nearly constant announcements and notices asking the public to be on the lookout for the blond-haired, violet-eyed college boy.  No matter how hard she tried, she could never stop the bittersweet sting that seized at her heart each time she saw his beautiful, smiling face on a poster or TV screen.

Within the first couple of days of the search, however, it became increasingly clear that Yoosung had been relocated from the place where he had disappeared (which was completely deserted by the time the first crews arrived), with no evidence left behind that could provide a clue as to where he had been taken.  He was simply  _gone_ , without a trace, and with no leads to direct the search.  So, the search area opened up to the entire eastern region of the country. 

They were now searching for a needle in a very large haystack—a vast, mountainous, sparsely-populated haystack.  Even with the immense resources—money and manpower—devoted to the search effort, the odds were not looking to be favorable. 

There had been only a single contact since Yoosung’s disappearance—a harrowing, gut-wrenching phone call—on a hot summer day in August, about three months after Yoosung was taken.  Unknown had called Eleanora’s phone from a highly secured, untraceable device, apparently only wanting to toy with Eleanora and Yoosung for his own entertainment.  That call nearly broke her.  However, instead of letting it take her down, she learned to turn her anguish into anger, which ultimately steeled her resolve and gave her the strength to push forward.

Since then……nothing.  Nothing, but soul-crushing, hope-strangling silence.  Nobody knew where Yoosung was, or what had happened to him. 

For Eleanora, life had come crashing down around her, and she sank slowly into a deep darkness.  Hope yet lived, but was barely a candle's tiny flicker.

Meanwhile, the RFA was thrown into disarray.   All events were cancelled indefinitely.  Although the official operations of the organization had temporarily ceased, the remaining members managed to stay in close contact through the strength of their friendships with one another.  In this crisis, they all came together to support each other—and especially Eleanora.

Despite the unwavering support and constant reassurances of her dear friends, Eleanora blamed herself.  He did this  _for her_.  He was dead-set on going, if it gave him a chance to protect the woman he loved so much.  But, why… _oh, why_ … did she let him go?  Why didn’t she stop him? 

Surely she could have—he would have listened to her…right? 

Of course, the other RFA members rightly pointed out that there was no way she—or anyone else—could have stopped him. The boy was  _determined_ , and more than a little stubborn; nobody—not even Eleanora—would have been able to talk him out of it.  Even though she knew this, it still never stopped her from ruminating on the notion that she could have said or done  _something_  to convince him to stay behind in safety….and that she should have done just that.  He’d be with her right now, safe and sound, if she hadn’t failed to stop him from putting himself in harm’s way.

With the danger to herself and the other RFA members eliminated, she was free to come and go from the apartment as she pleased.  Soon after that, she was invited by the RFA to stay at the apartment indefinitely, an invitation she readily accepted.  She was dedicated to the members and the mission of the RFA, and had no intention of leaving her place in the organization, even if she was currently unable to perform her duty of coordinating events and maintaining the guest list.

Staying at the apartment just made sense—for many reasons.  However, there was another very important reason she chose to stay.  The apartment was where she was when she met Yoosung.  It was also the former home of Yoosung’s cousin, Rika, and there were many pictures of him around the place.  While it hurt her heart to see his face, she felt closer to him in that apartment than anywhere else. 

Any connection to him, however small it might be, she clung to with all of her might.  These threads of hope were what kept her going—that still, small voice in her heart that whispered  _maybe today will be the day we bring him home_ \---this is what gave her the courage to wake up and face each new day.

The days slowly melted into weeks and months, spring flowing into summer, summer crashing into fall.  Now, with winter’s icy fingers gripping the sleeping land—hope was growing even more and more tenuous.  The weather was harsh, and the manpower available for searching was limited.  Some of the organizations participating in the search had begun withdrawing from the effort late in the summer, believing that the search had become a lost cause and an unnecessary risk on their people and resources—which were needed for other cases elsewhere. 

Indeed, Eleanora was informed just last week that search and rescue efforts were being scaled back once again, and would likely cease entirely before long, with the way things were going.  The search headquarters had slowly become more and more deserted, until it was finally closed down completely last month. 

Despite the considerable monetary and staffing resources available to Jumin through his position at his father’s corporation, which he had provided from day one of this tragedy, there have been absolutely no leads, and it was becoming more and more difficult for him to justify the expense and manpower allocation to the directors of his company.  He had asked Eleanora to meet him at his office to break the news to her.

“I’m sorry, Eleanora.  Truly, I am.  But, you have to realize that it’s been seven months.  The entire country has been searched with a fine-toothed comb.  Millions of dollars have gone into public announcements on every form of media.  More millions have gone into public and private search efforts.  Every stone has been overturned, every tree and blade of grass searched.  Everything that can possibly be done, has been done.  There has to come a point where we begin to accept…the reality…” Jumin’s words became uncharacteristically hesitant as he stops to sigh, closing his eyes, his forehead creased as if he were in pain, “…that he’s gone.” 

As they stood facing each other in front of Jumin's formidably large desk, Jumin reached out to place a hand on Eleanora’s arm, in a gesture of comfort that is rare for him, but she would have none of it.  She shoved him away, her anger quickly building until it was seething through every pore of her body.  Then, she felt something snap deep inside the very core of her being, and, like mighty volcano Krakatoa, she exploded—releasing all of the pent-up frustration, anger and despair.

“HOW CAN YOU SAY THAT TO ME, JUMIN HAN?  HOW  _DARE_  YOU?” Her voice rose, shrill and loud, almost as a primal scream, channeling all of the anguish that had been gathering in the abyss of her heart and soul.  She was no longer in control of what she did or said as the dam broke and all of her emotions came flooding out.

Before she could process what she was doing, her hand reared back, swung forward, and delivered a resounding slap to Jumin’s face— _SMACK!—_ that echoed sharply throughout his cold, sterile, minimally decorated office.  Immediately, a hot, angry, red mark spread across his cheek that matched Eleanora’s hot, angry, and utterly broken heart.  Without even the slightest flinch, Jumin stood stoically against her onslaught, patiently listening as Eleanora poured out her anguish. 

“How… _how_  can you just…… _give up_  on him like that?” She sputtered, “Like his life doesn’t matter.  Like he’s just some…. some  _nobody_ … to be tossed away like a used tissue.  Oh, right….he’s just a kid.  Is that it?  Just a college student with lousy grades who goofs around and plays video games instead of making deals and changing the world like you do.  He’s not rich and powerful like you and your corporate ilk; he has no connections, no stock portfolio, no assets, so he’s…expendable.  That’s it, isn’t it?  The bottom line--the almighty dollar. Cha-ching!  It’s all about MONEY, and Yoosung just isn’t worth the investment.”  After months of worry and heartbreak, Eleanora had finally come unhinged.

Jumin continued to stand silently in front of her, allowing her to release her feelings.  He wisely knew she needed to do this…to vent her frustration, her anger, and her anguish, especially after staying so incredibly strong for such a long time.  As he stood quietly, allowing her to direct all of her rage at him, his usually impassive, steely-gray eyes showed an unusual softness and…were they glistening?  Was he betraying a bit of very un-Jumin-like emotion? 

Looking into Jumin’s eyes, and suddenly sensing his pain, Eleanora instantly felt her white-hot anger begin to melt into dark, cold despair, and her voice wavered.  “I-I’m sorry, Jumin…..I didn’t mean to…..b-but…. _Oh God_ …We can’t just…..abandon him….he’s out there somewhere, possibly suffering… _scared_ …alone...away from anyone who loves him…” This unbearable thought was her undoing.  She unraveled completely, her words choking painfully in her throat as the tears began to flow.  She buried her face into her trembling hands, leaning weakly against the black marble surface of Jumin's desk.

“ _We...have to...save him, Jumin_ …” Her broken words were barely audible.  Her body shook intensely as she wept.  She had cried countless times in the months that Yoosung had been gone, but this was the first time she truly let go of her emotions and showed the full extent of her pain in front of someone else.

Jumin slowly stepped forward, tentatively putting his arms around her—an action that was at the same time incredibly awkward, yet completely natural.  Jumin was not the hugging type. But, underneath the perfectly precise and seemingly cold exterior, he was, in fact, in possession of a functioning human heat--especially for Eleanora, for whom he cared deeply...though he rarely let it show.  

This time, Eleanora did not try to push him away.  Her soul laid bare with loud, violent, heaving sobs, she banged frustrated, clenched fists onto Jumin’s chest like an inconsolable child, while also leaning into his embrace and burying her face into his crisp, exquisitely-tailored shirt until it had noticeable wet spots where her tears had soaked into the expensive material. 

Once Eleanora was able to calm down, Jumin agreed to see what he could do to keep the search and rescue operation going, but--ever the realist--he made no promises about things over which he had no control.  He did, however, promise to put as much of his personal money and resources toward the search efforts as needed. 

Eleanora thanked him and apologized for her outburst, realizing that Jumin really did care about Yoosung and, like everyone else, was doing everything in his power bring him home.

“We all care about him, Eleanora.  And I do understand how much he means to you.  If there was anything I could do to change this situation for the better, I would do it.  Please know that,” Jumin told her as she left his office.  She gave him another quick hug—which he awkwardly accepted—before she walked away.

The physical, geographically-based search was not the only approach being utilized to hunt for Yoosung.  Seven—who was with Yoosung when he was taken, and felt a crushing burden of responsibility for Yoosung’s fate—was feverishly using his technological skill to continue to search for some kind of trace—a marker, cyber chatter, anything—that might provide a clue to Yoosung’s whereabouts.  He was normally a gregarious, goofy jokester, but in the last several months he had become more aloof and withdrawn.  He rarely left his workstation, and Eleanora suspected that he hardly ever slept. 

The endless days of nothing--no answers, no clues, no absolution, slowly eroded Eleanora's mind.  At this point, even locating a body--Eleanora shuddered at the thought, angry that it dared to show up unwanted and uninvited--would at least provide some closure. 

No. 

She couldn’t shake the feeling that he was still alive. 

Surely… _surely_  she would know in her heart if he was not. Even in her darkest moments, she still felt his presence.  Seeing his photos all around her, and his profile picture in the RFA app—his status unchanged in such a long time—she would feel a barely perceptible warmth around her…his love embracing her like the most gentle of spring breezes.  

Over the past seven months, Eleanora has had little to do but think of Yoosung, and do whatever she can to help in the efforts to find him.  When she wasn’t volunteering with the search and rescue teams or at the phone bank, she would visit Seven, who was working almost non-stop to find leads from the furthest reaches of cyber-space. 

Of course, his own overwhelming feelings of guilt motivated him to prove to her that he was working hard—sometimes 60 to 80 hours a week, fueled by PhD Pepper and Honey Buddha Chips—to chase down any and every scrap of information possible.  Perhaps, his chronic lack of sleep and subsequent clouded judgement allowed him to disclose a bit more sensitive information to Eleanora than he normally would have.  He most likely never considered just how intently she paid attention to his every word and action, instead figuring that it was mostly Greek to her.  If that was the case, he couldn’t be more wrong.

Although Eleanora never had much of an interest in technology, she did take several classes in high school and college that gave her a basic understanding of how things work.  Her strongest point in this arena was her considerable intellect, along with the ability to rapidly assimilate and process information in her mind; she was an extremely fast learner.  That, along with a nearly-flawless photographic memory, allowed her to quickly build her hacking and coding skills as she watched Seven work his magic.   

With her laptop at home, she used the knowledge imparted to her by Seven and did her own research to build a considerable knowledge base.  Although her skills have some distance to go before they match Seven’s, her ability had become quite impressive in its own right.  All of this, in a matter of a few months.

It’s amazing what a girl is capable of accomplishing when she is singularly obsessed with one goal.  When that goal is finding and saving the boy she loves more than anything else in the world, there is no power in the universe that can possibly stop her.

As her reverie on the events of the last seven months ended, she tossed her pillow unceremoniously onto her bed.  She stood up, did a quick stretch of her tense, tired muscles, then made her way over to her computer.  

She had work to do.

* * *

 


	2. Seven Months, Two Weeks, and Two Days Ago

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taking place the day after his disappearance, Yoosung wakes up as a prisoner of Unknown. He's been relocated to a remote, off-grid location. As he slowly remembers how he got there, he realizes how dire his situation is. As long as MC (Eleanora) is safe, he is willing to pay any price.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's Chapter 2! 
> 
> We switch gears a bit and get to see what's going on from Yoosung's point of view. 
> 
> This takes place the day after Yoosung was taken. He's just woken up in a strange place, and his captor, Unknown, introduces himself and we get a general idea that some bad stuff is about to go down.
> 
> My apologies, Saeran fans--he doesn't get portrayed very well in this story, though I do try to treat him with sensitivity whenever I can, since I know he can't really help how messed up he is. His real identity is only vaguely referenced here and there. I'll make it up to him eventually, I promise!
> 
> Thanks again for reading, and I hope you enjoy!

**Chapter 2: Seven Months, Two Weeks, and Two Days Ago**

Day 2—May 10th

* * *

 

9:48pm

 

The room was cold, and nearly pitch-dark.  The young, blonde boy, not quite three months past his 21st birthday, shivered and winced as his eyes strained and squinted to see into his murky surroundings.  He hurt, especially his head, but he felt sore pretty much everywhere.  As awareness slowly came to him, he realized that he was laying on a concrete floor, his hands fastened together in front of him with…what?  Some kind of leather cuffs?   As he tried to adjust his position, he found that his ankles were cuffed and secured in the same way. 

He reached his bound hands up to his face, trying to figure out why his head hurt so much.  His long, slender fingers trembled as they gingerly explored his face until they discovered a sticky, slick area just above his right eye.  Then, he found the painful source—a small gash just above the eyebrow.  The area around it was swollen into a large, throbbing knot.  He couldn’t remember how it got there.  He realized that the entire side of his face was covered in thick, partially-dried blood, with some of his hair matted into it at the edges of his face.   Where the blood had dried and cracked, his skin felt tight and itchy.

He struggled to sit up and look around, trying to determine where he was.  Despite the fear that dominated his awareness, he was also quite hungry. Even more than that, he was extremely thirsty; his mouth was parched and his throat was sore.  He tried to lick his parched, cracked lips, but his tongue was almost completely dry and slightly swollen. 

It was so dark in the room that he soon gave up trying to see anything, so he began to try moving around and feel what was around him.  This was an exercise in frustration with his limbs bound, but, after scooting around as best he could, he soon realized that he was in some kind of jail cell or cage, as he was surrounded on all sides by cold, metal bars.  The area included in the cell was very small, probably about six feet along each side.  The effort used in surveying his surroundings, along with the lack of nourishment and hydration, soon left him exhausted, so he leaned uncomfortably against the bars of his enclosure and attempted to rest.  He shivered from a combination of cold—and fear.  His lips trembled, and he felt like he wanted to cry, but tears would not come.

His mind still extremely confused, he vaguely began to wonder how he got here.   _Where_  was  _here_ , anyway?  Slowly, the muddled, swirling mélange of broken bits and pieces of thought began to congeal within his throbbing head, and he was able to recall some of the chain of events of the last 24 hours.  He and Seven discovered the headquarters of the organization that wanted to destroy the RFA.  “Green Eye”, was it called?  It made sense, because he did remember a guy who had bright, green eyes.  Plus, wasn’t the organization’s logo a green eye?  No, that wasn’t right.   _Mint_ Eye.  Yes, that’s what they called it.  Mint Eye.  Yoosung’s mind tried to follow the thought process, like a long, tangled string—but it still felt like he was floating in a dizzying haze.  Someone caught them—he had white hair…with pink tips…right?  And green eyes?  Yes, he was the guy with the green eyes. 

After several tense words had been exchanged, Seven had seemed to become strangely affected by the guy.   _Did they know each other?_

Yoosung’s head began to hurt worse as he desperately tried to remember more details.  They had just finished downloading information from their computers.  Important information.  Then, Seven had grabbed a device, something dangerous, from the guy and ran.  White-haired guy tried to stop him, and almost succeeded, but Yoosung tackled him and allowed Seven to get away.   He had to distract the guy so Seven could get away with the information--and the device.

 _What was the device?_   Yoosung winced as his forehead furrowed in thought.  It was a detonator switch…that would set off the bomb at the apartment.  Rika’s apartment.   _Where Eleanora was…”_   His thoughts trailed off as her name appeared in his mind, slicing through the foggy bewilderment with the pure, white light of the sun itself. 

_Eleanora!_

Yoosung’s heart jumped into his throat as he remembered the girl he loved.  His sweet Eleanora.  The first and only person he had ever loved with all of his heart…the one he would do  _anything_  to protect.  

_Was Eleanora safe?_

He had allowed Seven to escape with the detonation device.  As long as he made it, Eleanora was safe.  Yoosung smiled to himself as he realized that he had been successful in what he set out to do—to protect his beloved Eleanora. 

 _If she was safe,_  then everything was fine.  He would gladly endure anything to keep her alive and safe—he would even lay down his life for her.  In fact, it would be his ultimate honor to die for the one he loved.

She had appeared, out of the blue, into his life one day as he was chatting with his friends on the RFA app.   _“An abrupt stranger,”_  as Jaehee had referred to her at the time.  Indeed, it  _was_  strange, and a bit scary at first, but he soon realized that Eleanora was nobody to fear. 

There was something about her—something that exuded kindness and love and light.  She had agreed to help these random people she had only just met, when it would have been so much easier—and probably safer—to run away and simply carry on with her life. 

She was so vibrant; he didn’t need to actually see her in person to feel the gentle beauty of her soul.  She pierced his loneliness and made him feel more …alive… than he had felt in years—since his cousin, Rika—the founder of Rika’s Fundraising Association—took her own life on the day before his high school graduation two years ago. 

On the day Rika died, she took a large part of Yoosung with her.  In its place was just…an empty void.  Empty, that is, until Eleanora burst into his life with all of the love and color and majestic splendor of an ocean sunrise.  She truly completed him, fulfilled him, and permeated his soul in a way he had never experienced—or even thought possible.  He had been counting the minutes until he got to see her in person—and then spend the rest of his life with her, their souls intertwined….forever.

A wave of sadness gripped him as he wondered if they would ever get that chance now.  They had never had any other contact other than through phone calls and the RFA app.  Because of the bomb, and the secrecy surrounding Rika’s apartment (which he never fully understood and often resented), she had been unable to leave the apartment, and he was unable to go to her.  They had been supposed to meet at the RFA party, which had been set for…today?  Yesterday?  Yoosung had no idea what day it was.  The thought of missing the party, and the chance to see his lovely Eleanora for the first time, to hold her for the first time---to experience his first kiss with her… it was almost more than his heart could bear.  A tear slid down his bloodied cheek.

A sudden, loud slam of what sounds like a heavy metal door startled him out of his thoughts and back into the present moment.  Footsteps behind him—slow and deliberate—caused the hairs on the back of his neck to stand on end, and an involuntary chill ran down his spine.  Yoosung shuddered.

“So…you’re finally awake.  Good.”  A voice—soft, but with a subtle, sinister quality that made Yoosung’s stomach turn.  A light flicked on and, before him, stood the green-eyed, white-haired guy he and Seven had encountered at the Mint Eye headquarters.  Was this the “Unknown” person that led Eleanora to Rika’s apartment, and who threatened to kill her and destroy the RFA?  He chuckled at the pitiful sight in the cage before him.

“Wow.  You look terrible.  You probably have quite the headache, too—that’s a nasty cut on your head.  That’s what you get for screwing up my plan.  Also, you will find that it is a very bad idea to try to attack me.  If you ever touch me again without my permission, you’ll get much worse than a little thump to the head.”

“W-who are you?”  Yoosung croaked, struggling to form his words.

“You know me as ‘Unknown’, and that is good enough for now,” sniffed the white-haired guy indifferently as he examined his well-manicured nails.  So, that confirmed that he was the one who led Eleanora to Rika's apartment and the RFA.

“Why am I here?”  Yoosung was no less confused, even as he tried to gather information and piece it together in his aching head.

“See, here’s the funny thing…I never wanted  _you_  to begin with.  It’s the read-headed one that I have unsettled business with, and he was the one I wanted.  But, you got in the way and screwed everything up.  You weren’t even supposed to be there.”  His voice grew low, anger flashing in his brilliant green eyes.

Yoosung wondered what sort of “business” Unknown was referring to.  What possible connection could there be between him and Seven?   _What was going on?_   Yoosung felt the sudden urge to throw up, but remained frozen in fear.

Unknown closed his almost luminescent emerald eyes and took a deep breath, after which his voice was calmer and quieter, and almost musical. “It’s okay, though… it’s okay.  I like you.  You’re really cute, and now that I’ve had time to think about it, I’ve decided not to kill you—at least, not right away.  In fact, I think that, with just a little adjustment to my plan, you’ll actually make an excellent replacement,” Unknown said breezily, as a smile crept over his lips…a twisted, grimace-like smile that represented something far, far removed from happiness.  The words and the “smile” brought a feeling of utter terror over his captive audience. 

“So…w-what do you plan to…do with me?”  He asked timidly, his voice quivering.  He wasn’t sure he wanted to know, but was grasping at any straws that gave him even the pretense of control on the situation.

“You’re just full of questions, aren’t you, pet?  Like an annoying child,” Unknown stepped close to the bars of the cage, strumming his fingers slowly across the bars.

“To answer your question … _What do I plan to do with you?”_   Unknown pauses, then crouches down, leaning in close to the bars of Yoosung’s cage, his lips merely a few inches from Yoosung’s face.  His lips curl back into a hideous, leering grin.

 _“Whatever I damn well please,”_  he whispers, his voice suddenly taking on a completely different, unearthly quality and tone--one that was dark, low, and ominously sinister.  Yoosung gasped as the words grazed his ear with Unknown’s hot, moist breath.  It smelled sickly sweet, like rancid candy.  Yoosung’s stomach churned as fear overwhelmed him.

Returning to his feet, he continues, “You are now my pet.  I will use you to fulfil any and all of my needs, at any time of my choosing.  You now exist only for me.”

Yoosung felt his blood turn icy in his veins, as terror gripped him like a giant, invisible, cold, sweaty fist.

“Please let me go…please…”  Yoosung was trying so hard to be brave, but the lump building in his throat made its presence known with an involuntary sob.

“Let you  _go?”_  Unknown was both incredulous and amused.  “Are you kidding me?  No way!” he chuckled at the cute, naïve little boy trembling fearfully in the cage before him.  “I’ve been waiting for this forever.  Someone that belongs to me, who will never leave me like everyone else in my life has done.”  His eyes momentarily flashed a distant look of intense sadness and despair at those last words, but quickly regained their previous expression of fire and envy and rage. 

“ _Please_ …”  Despite his efforts to stay strong, tears spilled down Yoosung’s cheeks as he pleaded for his freedom, his future. His future with Eleanora.  He could not let go of the hope that maybe, just maybe, this nightmare could be ended peacefully.

 _"It doesn't have to be this way..."_   Yoosung's voice was barely a whisper.

"Oh, but I think it does.  Listen close, pet.  You WILL remain here, and you WILL stop begging and crying like a whiny child.”  Unknown’s voice was suddenly hard and loud, not unlike one of Yoosung’s least favorite college professors his freshman year.  He had skipped most of the classes, and barely passed the semester.

“If you do not do exactly as I say, or if you fail to please me in any way, I will dispose of you and get a different replacement.”  Tapping a finger against his lip in mock deliberation, “hmmm….maybe even... _her?"_

Yoosung’s eyes widened with horror as he shook his head, almost imperceptibly.

“No...” his mouth formed the word, but his voice died in his throat as he shook his head almost imperceptibly.

“What was her name…umm…Eleanora, wasn’t it?  I know exactly where she is.  I led her to that apartment.  I stalked her for days before I hacked her phone, installed the RFA app, and contacted her.  I know what she looks like.  Ha!  I even know what her bra size is,” Innocent Yoosung blushed at the mention of this personal detail. 

“Face it, Romeo, I know your girl better than you do!  I also know that she is lovely.  Exceptionally so.  A real cutie pie, almost as cute as you, but not quite.” 

Unknown continued, “Honestly, as a couple, the two of you would approach terminal cuteness.  It’s probably for the best that you’ll never be together with her, because the whole world would get cavities from the excessive sweetness…”  His words trailed off as he stuck a finger in his mouth and picked at one of his upper molars.  “Which reminds me, I need to see a dentist soon...” 

Snapping back into the moment with a sadistic smirk, “I bet I could have a lot of fun with our pretty little girl.  What do you think?”  He asked Yoosung, in a manner that was at once both playful and evil. 

Yoosung’s blood seemed to run hot and cold at the same time.  Terror tangled with rage, though he dared not disclose his anger, lest he cause Unknown to act on his threats.  “No!  Please.  Leave her alone.  She hasn’t done anything wrong.  Don’t hurt her!”  His voice cracked as his throat tightened again.

“Hmm.  If I promise to not lay a hand on Eleanora, would you pledge your loyalty to me, and stay with me?” Unknown grinned, knowing that he had the quivering, crying boy right where he wanted him.

Through his sobs, Yoosung took a deep, but ragged breath.  “Yes…I’ll stay.  I’ll…..I’ll do…. anything you want.  Just promise…… not to hurt Eleanora, or…… anyone else in the RFA.”

“Anything…  _Really_?” Unknown sounded pleased.  “Very well, then. We will begin your training tomorrow.”  He flashed a toothy grin, suddenly taking on the air of a little boy in a candy store.  “We’re going to have so much fun!” 

He spun around, theatrically, like he was channeling his inner Benedict Cumberbatch performing a melodramatic Shakespearean soliloquy—although his mannerism more closely resembled Johnny Depp as Captain Jack Sparrow…only with a bit less rum and far more malevolence.  Mid spin, he froze, and turned back to Yoosung.  He added, his voice darkening slightly as he met Yoosung’s gaze, “Just to be clear, when I say ‘WE’, I really mean ME.  You probably won’t enjoy it much, unless you’re some kind of masochist sicko!  And who knows…maybe you are.  Whatever.  I don’t care!”  He added with a giggle that suggested that he found himself quite hilarious. 

His goofy attempt at humor made him appear almost human for a split second…yet horribly abnormal at the same time.  What horrific circumstances could have created such a damaged, disturbed individual?  Is there even any humanity in there?

Unknown’s jovial mood did little to encourage Yoosung, who had slumped into himself, almost in a fetal position.  At this point, he was having a moment of mental clarity, during which came a series of dark realizations regarding his situation.  His tears came in an uncontrollable flood, his body trembling with quiet sobs.  Unknown laughed at Yoosung’s pain and despair.

“That’s right, my pet.  Let it all sink in.  Get used to the idea that your life belongs to me now.  Your only value in this world is the value I say you have.  You are worthless to everyone else, and for any other purpose. You exist solely for my pleasure, and your life is at my discretion alone.  Once you accept your place and own your despair, you will be much easier for me to break you and mold you into my own toy.  It might even make this easier on you….or not.  Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn!  Eh,  _Crimson_?  Or was it  _Violet?_   Oh yeah.... _SCARLETT_ ….  _Scarlett O’Hara_ , you know, from  _Casablanca_.  Gotta love the classics!!!!!  HA!”  More maniacal laughing; he seemed like a giddy kid.  

Clearly, this was a madman, and Yoosung was both confused and frightened by his odd behavior and thought process, which he found impossible to follow.  Did he really just paraphrase  _“Gone with the Wind”_  and call it  _“Casablanca”?_   Who could confuse the two?

A flick of a switch, and the lights were out.  A loud clang of the big metal door announced that Unknown was leaving for the night.  Yoosung was once again alone—cold, hungry, thirsty, in pain, and terrified of what the next day would bring.  Shaking uncontrollably, he placed his head on his knees and wept freely, until he fell into an exhausted, broken sleep.

* * *

 


	3. Christmas Breakthrough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Christmas Eve, and MC (Eleanora) is spending a lonely evening doing what she's done almost non-stop for the past several weeks--sitting at her computer, using a program that she wrote herself, to scan millions of lines of code and signals for any sign of Yoosung. 
> 
> On this particular night, however, she actually gets a hit that offers some hope. Has she found him?
> 
> Disclaimers: Don't read too much into my completely made-up technological terms. Just roll with it... It's fiction, after all! :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's Chapter 3!
> 
> We're back at the "current" timeline with Eleanora. 
> 
> She makes a potentially earth-shattering discovery, and calls Seven over to the apartment to show him. 
> 
> Enjoy some sweet moments between the two as they discuss the possibilities.

**Chapter 3: Christmas Breakthrough**

Day 231—December 25th

* * *

 

12:19am

                      

It had been a cold, rainy Christmas Eve in the city.  Eleanora had spent most of the day with her friends in the RFA. Eleanora experienced her first RFA Christmas party at Jumin’s penthouse, which was, of course, appropriately lavish.  The normally festive mood at the party was, this year, subdued and somber, all comfort and joy drained away by the gut-wrenching void left by Yoosung’s absence.  Nobody felt comfortable speaking about him, yet his presence was very much felt by all in attendance, especially by Eleanora. 

Unlike in years past, Zen did not get drunk and try to sing karaoke, for which Jumin was thankful.  Jaehee, however, was a little bit disappointed.  She would never admit it, but she thought Zen was impossibly cute when he was drunk…as long as no pictures or video leaked out and went viral.  The resulting scandal would be disastrous to Zen’s budding career.  Jaehee personally stored any photos and video---for safekeeping, of course.

It had taken Jaehee and Zen most of the previous week to talk Eleanora into agreeing to attend.  They thought it would be good for her to get out of the apartment and be around friends; a welcome distraction.

However, the party served the opposite effect.  After all, it was Christmas--a time when loved ones are supposed to be together.  Her most loved one was missing.  Instead of a distraction, it served to magnify the emptiness, the pain, the sickening feeling of knowing that this would have been... _should have been..._ their first Christmas together.  

It wasn't supposed to be this way.  Not like this.

Just the same, the party was nice—far more elaborate than any she had ever attended—and Eleanora was even convinced to eat a small amount of the expensive food Jumin had brought in by high-dollar caterers. It was delicious, but it sat like a cold, heavy stone in her churning stomach.

The party having ended hours ago, it was now past midnight, and Eleanora was back at her apartment.

 _Merry Christmas..._ for whatever it was worth in Eleanora’s mind. 

She sat at her computer, eyes glued to the screen as endless streams of code flashed rapidly across it.  She was hoping that the program she finally finished writing last month—and tweaked nearly two dozen times since then—would be able to find a tracing marker left behind by communication between Yoosung’s captor and the Mint Eye organization.  As Eleanora understood it, this was her best chance of finding a solid lead, at least, that her level of expertise and skill was capable of finding.  She had spent virtually every waking hour in the last few weeks working on this.

It had been apparent for a while that whoever had Yoosung was no longer directly related to Mint Eye, but was still potentially using their considerably large and powerful communication network through...unconventional...means.  Considering what she had seen, this person had high-level hacking skills, and was likely accessing the network unbeknownst to Mint Eye—which had been forced to abandon its facility and go underground, its operatives scattered and disorganized in the wake of Seven’s hacking in and exposing their secret hideout.  Perhaps this was a rogue agent of Mint Eye?  Or maybe a lone wolf?

Either way, Eleanora was determined to find the connection and, from that, discover where Yoosung was being held.  Even if she had to go in by herself and save him, she was more than ready to do it. 

Of course...it would be dangerous.  

 _So what?_  

He put himself in danger for her.  Her safety meant very little if it meant being without him.  Her existence right now could not possibly considered a  _life_.  It was just… _existing_. 

An existence that continuously lacerated her heart and ripped the fabric of her soul.

She had been considering what she would do if the unthinkable turned out to be true—that Yoosung was dead.  In the darkest recess of her mind, she knew that she would no longer wish to continue living if he were not in the world.  Finding him and bringing him back was the only purpose she felt in life.  If he was truly gone, then there would be no purpose left.  

She felt nauseous at the thought—she knew Yoosung would be horrified if he knew what she was thinking. 

She had already thought about what her exit strategy might be if absolute confirmation ever came.  Until she KNEW...without a doubt...that he was gone, however, she would stop at nothing to find him, wherever he was. 

Once again, she shoved these dark thoughts away.  It was getting harder and harder to do that, though.

Pulling her knees up to her chest and resting her feet on the seat of her chair, she snuggled deeper into her fleece bathrobe against the cold invading the apartment from the frigid temperatures outside.  The cold rain that had persisted throughout the day had turned into a light snow.  It looked like it might even turn out to be a white Christmas, something she had never seen before.  Under normal circumstances, she would have been ecstatic—she loved snow—but at this point, she was incapable of any modicum of happiness. 

Instead, she scrutinized the weather conditions out to the east, where heavy snowstorms were blanketing the mountains and closing many of the smaller access roads.  This worried her.  Her gut instincts were leading her to believe that Yoosung was most likely in the eastern highlands—after all, it’s a large, remote and largely unpopulated wilderness, with only a few tiny communities with permanent residents, a few abandoned farms in the valleys, and lots of mountain caves. 

In other words, it’s a huge area with tons of places to hide, and almost impossible to search thoroughly, even with armies of crews and all the time in the world.  It would be so easy to hide out there.  Surely, that’s where Yoosung was taken, Eleanora thought.  She prayed that, wherever her sweetheart was, that he was safe and warm.

Her wandering thoughts had lulled her into a light sleep, her head bowed with her chin resting against her knees.

* * *

 

2:16am

 

BEEEEEEP…BEEEEEEP…BEEEEEEP

Eleanora sat bolt upright, completely ignoring both the painful kink that had developed in her neck, and the long strand of drool that was rolling off of her chin.  Her eyes were open wide, but it took a moment for them to focus on anything.

What time was it?  Her clock read 2:17 in the morning.

She stared at her screen. 

Was she really awake? 

‘MATCH FOUND’ flashed across her screen.  

What the...?

 _Wh-what...am I seeing?_  

She stared a bit longer before clicking on the message.  Still incredulous and convinced she was dreaming, she scrutinized the data in the marker.

It seemed to have all of the matching data signatures she was looking for—it was connecting to Mint Eye servers, it even has one matching the connection data from when Unknown first contacted her on her phone!  These indications all pointed to a very high likelihood that this tracer originated from the place where Yoosung was being held by Unknown.

 _I’m dreaming,_  she thought to herself, not daring to raise her hopes.

Eleanora stared at the screen a little longer.  She took a long drink from her water bottle, letting the icy cold fluid wake up her mind.  She rubbed her eyes, smacked her hands against her cheeks, and examined the screen one more time. 

It was still there, a trace marker between the Mint Eye servers and a location that suggested that it was coming from an abandoned farm site in the mountains—just like Eleanora had suspected. 

_Oh my God._

_This…_

_This could actually be it._  

Was it even possible that she had really found it?  Her mind raced, almost as fast as her heart was beating. 

She grabbed her phone.  It may have been after 2 in the morning, but she didn’t care.  Seven never slept anyway.  She dialed his number with trembling fingers.

“Hey, Eleanora!  Merry Christmas!"  Seven greeted her cheerfully.  "What are you doing up this late, waiting for Santa Claus?” 

Eleanora paused briefly, once again making sure she wasn’t dreaming the words she was about to speak.  Just the same, the words felt odd and cumbersome coming out of her mouth.

“Seven.  I—I just got…a  I’ve got…” she took a deep breath and tried again, “I think...I...." she fought to control her anxiety-induced stutter.

 _"I think I’ve found him,”_   The words tumbled out, awkward and uneven, taking all of the air from her lungs with them.  It was so surreal and dreamlike to say those words.

“Whoa… _You What?!?_  I’ll be right there.   _Don’t move, okay?”_   Seven’s words were followed by an unceremonious click as he abruptly ended the call.

The doorbell rang exactly six minutes later.  Which was fast, considering he lived more than ten miles away across town.

“What did you do, fly over here?”  Eleanora quipped, but only half-jokingly.  Considering his skills, his connections, and his resources, she wouldn’t have been too surprised if Seven actually did tell her that he had, in fact, flew across town.  Maybe with a rocket pack or a personal helicopter, a la “Inspector Gadget”.  She had learned long ago not to put anything past the amazing Seven-Zero-Seven.  The guy was a wizard.

 “I hitched a ride with Santa.  Nice guy.  Reindeers smelled, though…and I didn’t get any presents.”  Seven pouted.  Eleanora narrowed her eyes at him, not prepared to handle humor at a time like this.

“Alright, alright.  The truth.  I have a fast car, and I may or may not have broken a few traffic laws,” he smirked.  Indeed, he did have a fast car.  Several, actually.  Eleanora wondered how fast he must have been going, and how he managed to maneuver through the traffic (even at 2am…the city never sleeps). 

Shaking her head vigorously to return her thoughts to the topic at hand, Eleanora showed him her findings.  

After taking a few moments to examine the data, Seven sat back, his gold eyes narrowed in thoughtful concentration.  

“I remember seeing a tracer a lot like this one, from the beginning of June, just a few weeks after…”  His voice trailed off, and he paused for a split-second.  Clearing his throat, he continued.  “I am 150% sure we’ve checked that area, multiple times, because of the activity we picked up in the vicinity.  There’s actually a little abandoned farm near there.  See it on this satellite image?” He pointed to a collection of three buildings clustered together—a house, a barn, and a small shed, surrounded by some small, open fields in a wooded valley high in the mountains.  It appeared to be an old dairy farm, like many others that once dotted the high mountain valleys.  The development of highly-efficient modern commercial farming technology largely wiped them out decades ago, except for a few family-owned artisanal farms that have managed to survive by catering to the hipster niche market.

“But…That’s where the tracer came from, Seven.  And, look, this data signature matches one of the ones from when Unknown first contacted my phone!  This can’t be just a random happenstance.  He must be there!  Why else would there be any sort of information coming from such a remote location”

“But that area has been thoroughly searched.  Repeatedly.  Look at the search grid,” he said, gesturing at the large map pinned to the wall next to Eleanora’s desk, with the entire search area marked off in square sections.  He tapped his finger on the spot indicated by the GPS coordinates.  “This place is almost dead-center of the zone that was being searched.”

Sinking back into the chair next to Eleanora’s desk, Seven sighed, his eyes and his voice both heavy with a deep sadness. “There are many reasons why a communications tracer would ping in a remote, unoccupied location like that.  That place is high in the mountains, which border the large river valley in which this city is located.  It’s entirely possible that the tracer was reflected by satellite by random accident.  Basically, background noise.  Happens fairly often.”

Eleanora was taken aback by Seven’s dismissive response to what she found.  She had expected him to be as excited about it as she was.  “Yes...projections.  I’ve read about them.  They are actually pretty rare, especially to be as detailed as this one.  There have only been three reported instances in the last ten years, and two of them were hackers relaying their server access to hideouts in the mountains.  The other was throwing their signal to a false location to try to hide their actual location.  Either way, those defunct buildings in that area are perfect places for someone trying to fly under the radar and cover their tracks.”

“That is only the number of reported and  _investigated_  instances.  These are the exceptional cases.  I’ve seen evidence that suggest it’s much more common than that, but it’s easy enough to miss them that most go unseen and unreported.  I know for a fact that the vast majority are just accidental background noise.  Trust me, this is something I know a lot about.  I have used the phenomenon to my advantage many times.”

“You  _seriously_  don't think this means anything?”  Incredulous, Eleanora was beginning to get flustered at Seven’s wholesale dismissal of what she thought was an extremely promising lead.  "Look at the data signatures!  They link all the right things together, even the phone that was originally used to contact me and send me to this apartment!  This is  _no_  coincidence!"

“Eleanora. It may or it may not have anything directly to do with him.  I do believe that it  _could_  be a lead that needs further analysis, and I intend to pursue a full investigation on it first thing in the morning.  As for that location, I'm 100% certain that he's not there.  Search parties, with expert trackers and bloodhounds, have combed the area several times over the summer.  They were so thorough in searching the abandoned buildings, that some were even dismantled to their foundations.” I encountered some chatter a few days ago that indicated that he might not even be in the country anymore.  By now, he could be anywhere in the world.” 

Seven sighed again.  Eleanora noticed how thin and gaunt he had become.  His eyes, a flashy, fiery gold, were ringed with faint dark circles.  There was no doubt that Yoosung’s kidnapping was a tremendous weight on his shoulders.  Looking into her eyes, he declared, “Eleanora, listen to me:  I will NEVER stop looking for Yoosung.  I am the one who got him into this mess.  I failed him, big time.  He’s a good kid, and he never deserved any of this.  I will never give up on him, and I know you’ll never give up on him either.  I also don’t expect you to ever forgive me for letting this happen to him.  You shouldn’t.  But…..we have both got to be prepared for the  _possibility_  that…….that he’s never coming back.  That….he’s gone.”  His voice crackled over the last three words.  His expression betrayed the immense pain and guilt that hung over him like a dead albatross.  A burden he would always carry, regardless of how this story would be destined to end.

Eleanora sank deeper into her chair and buried her face in her hands, feeling overcome with despair.  It truly did seem like everyone was giving up.  Even Seven sounded like he was ready to admit defeat, despite his statement that he wasn’t ‘giving up’.   _How could she keep hope alive when nobody else would?_   Unlike her angry reaction towards Jumin last week, she found it much harder to get angry at Seven.  He and Yoosung were good friends; Yoosung was like his little brother.  Eleanora fully understood his feelings of guilt regarding his part in the disappearance. 

Why didn't she feel angry at Seven, like she did when Jumin said something similar?  Eleanora’s anger was crucial.  She had come to understand this very well.  Anger was the only emotion that gave her energy to keep going.  It kept her fighting.  It kept her stubborn and determined.  If she couldn’t find it in herself to get angry—and harness her rage, using it to clear any doubt or panic from her mind, channeling it in order to keep charging aggressively forward—she faced the danger of falling into the deep, murky, quicksand of depression.  She embraced her anger; in her quest to find her sweet boy, her anger was her friend.  A friend who was nowhere in sight when agent 707 was around.

Seven stood behind her chair, placing his slender, but strong hands on her shoulders and giving them a gentle squeeze. “Hey.  I know you’ve been working really hard.  I’m very impressed with how much you’ve learned and how you’ve put it to work in the search efforts.   Of course, you learned from the best!”  Naturally, Seven had to pat himself on the back, though his smile was one of the saddest Eleanora had ever seen. 

“Even though the physical search has been scaled back, we still have a sizeable army of hackers looking into every tiny little clue in cyberspace.  If he is still out there, we will find him.  I know you don’t want to hear this again, but you have to be patient and trust that all that can possibly be done, is being done.  And you have got to take care of yourself.  Yoosung would never want you to lose out on the sleep or food that you need.  Have you eaten  _at all_  today?”

“Just a little.”  Despite the impressive and tempting spread that had been provided at Jumin’s party, she had been unable to do much more than pick at any of the loaded plates that she was offered.

“Then, you need to eat right now.  I’ll go get you some late-night takeout.  If you’ll eat like a good girl, I’ll even leave you some Honey Buddha Chips to snack on while you work.   _But,_  you need to promise to get some sleep before you work anymore on this.  Understand?  Doctor’s orders.”

Eleanora grudgingly agreed.  “Yes, Doctor 707.”

“DOCTOR…Seven-Zero-Seven…?”  He said the words slowly, as if he were tasting them.  “I like it!  Maybe I’ll be a Doctor who flies around in a spaceship, fixing everyone’s problems using only my trusty electronic screwdriver, my skills, and my impeccable wit.” 

 _Great.  Now he wants to be a Temporal Lord, like on that one TV show?_  Eleanora rolled her eyes and just barely contained what would have been a loud groan.  She might have laughed, if she hadn’t felt so incredibly disheartened in the moment.

He laughed half-heartedly, then patted Eleanora on the head.  “That’s a good girl.  I’ll be right back with your food.”  He dashed out the door.   _How was he going to find takeout at this hour, on Christmas Eve…or, morning, I guess it is now_ ….Eleanora wondered. 

Surprisingly—or…perhaps not so surprisingly (remember…Seven is a God/wizard/Temporal Lord who can do  _anything_ )—he returned shortly with some fried chicken.  The smell emanating from the bag made Eleanora’s mouth water.  She knew that Seven was going for what would be most tempting to her, and was a bit less concerned with what would pack the most nutritional punch.  He did a good job, and she found herself smiling as she thought about how glad she was that it wasn’t Jumin who was fetching her food.  He would have had his cooks prepare something nutritious, but dreadfully bland. 

Eleanora ate dutifully, even if she didn’t finish more than half a serving.  Over the past months, her stomach capacity had decreased quite a bit.  Just the same, Seven smiled approvingly at her as she ate. 

“Want a bite?” Eleanora offered.  Seven shook his head, “Nope, I’m full.  Been munching on Honey Buddha Chips all night.  I don’t wanna get fat!” 

“Are you saying that I’ll get fat if I eat this?” Eleanora faked indignation, trying to be funny as she licked her fingers.

“Not at all!  But even if you did, I think girls are more attractive when they have just a little meat on their bones.”  He blushed, realizing that what he just said could be taken the wrong way, “and I know that Yoosung feels the same way,” Seven added without missing a beat.  Eleanora couldn’t help but smile a tiny bit at Seven’s near-fumble. 

She ate until she was full.  Seven beamed proudly.

“Good girl!  And now, as promised, I present to you, the exquisite flavor sensation of……Honey Buddha Chips!  Ta-dahhhh!”  Seven produced the bag with a ceremonious flourish from his jacket pocket, surprisingly uncrushed, and handed it to her. 

“Thanks.” Eleanora liked Honey Buddha Chips—who didn’t?—but at the same time, she couldn’t help but think about how absolutely crazy Yoosung is for the sweet, salty snacks.  She decided to save them for him.  They’d be a nice treat for him when he finally got home.  Whenever that might be…she thought, sorrow once again shading her mind.

“Do you think you’ll be okay for the rest of the night?” Seven looked at her anxiously, placing a comforting hand on her arm.  Since Yoosung has been gone, he’s felt extra protective of Eleanora, like a big brother.  It’s the least he can do for Yoosung to look after her in his absence.

“Yes, I’ll be alright.  Thank you, Seven.”  She managed a half-hearted, broken smile.  Suddenly, she felt the need to give the tall, red-headed goofball a big hug.  Caught off guard, Seven tenderly wrapped his arms around her and held her tight.  Eleanora buried her head into his chest, and Seven instinctively knew she was crying again. 

“I’m sorry about what I said earlier.  I never meant to discourage you.  I was only trying to help you avoid false hope, because I hate to see you hurting.  We’ll find him, Eleanora.  I promise.”  He squeezed her comfortingly.  Eleanora took a deep breath.  Seven smelled like Honey Buddha Chips and PhD Pepper, as always.  Somehow, Eleanora took comfort in this.  No matter how awful things get, some things never change.

“I know.”  Eleanora whispered, trying to find courage in the affirmative statement, as if confidence alone will bring her beloved home.

As Seven walked out the door, he turned to Eleanora and said “I’m serious about you taking care of yourself.  No more hacking until you have had a reasonable amount of sleep.  Okay?” 

Eleanora nodded, "Okay.  But only as long as you get some rest too.  You look like you haven't slept in weeks, and I'm worried about you."

Seven cast his eyes downward at the floor, then back up at Eleanora with a sigh.  He suddenly seemed like a different person.  Distant...older...and so, so tired.

"You're right.  I haven't been sleeping.  If it will make you feel better, I will take a short nap when I get home."

"It will make me feel better.  I know it's what Yoosung would want, too," Eleanora said softly.  

Seven nodded, his expression doing little to conceal the crushing burden of guilt and sadness he was carrying.

"I'll stop by tomorrow afternoon, okay?  We’ll go over the data again—maybe something will pop up in the meantime.  Until then, I want you to get some rest."  Seven said as he walked out of the door.  Eleanora watched him walk away until he went around the corner of the hallway, then she closed the door.  

Obediently, Eleanora climbed into her bed, turned off the light, and stared into the ceiling of the tiny apartment.  More than any other of the RFA members (except Yoosung), he always knew exactly what to say to convince her to his point of view.  Yes, he was absolutely right:  Yoosung would be very concerned about her lack of sleeping and eating.  She knew that she was of little use to the search effort if she was exhausted, so she may as well try to sleep.  Though, how anyone expected her to be able to sleep when she still firmly believed that her Yoosung was being held at that abandoned farm in the mountains, waiting to be rescued?  Her sweet, innocent, beautiful boy, so full of life and sunshine, whom she loved with her entire being, and who loved her the same? 

As she continued to lie there, thinking about her sweetheart, the tears began to flow again.  Despite herself, she soon fell into a broken, but desperately needed sleep.

* * *

 


	4. The Training of Yoosung Kim

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> MATURE CONTENT--READER DISCRETION ADVISED
> 
> During the first week of Yoosung's captivity, he is exposed to horrific treatment, as he is "trained" for his new role as plaything for Unknown--who insists on being called "Master". 
> 
> NOTE: Almost all of the explicit content is in this chapter. If you are squeamish or sensitive to dark content, feel free to skip this chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK, folks. This is where it gets really dark. I absolutely adore Yoosung...he was my first route, my first love, and he absolutely ruined the other routes in the game for me....so this section of story was really hard to write. Please forgive me, Yoosung and all of us who love him!
> 
> We don't really get much into Saeran's background in this story (though there are hints and references sprinkled here and there), but I may add in something later, or do a spin-off story on him sometime. 
> 
> Note: I really didn't feel like expanding a whole lot on Rika or V. V is not mentioned at all (though I might bring him in later), and Rika is only mentioned in passing. Her connection to Mint Eye is not discussed, but is not definitively ruled out, either.
> 
> As you probably know, Saeran (Unknown) is a MESSED UP individual. In this story, he had intended on capturing Seven (who probably could have gotten through to him and saved him, thus saving himself), but instead, he got poor Yoosung, who has no clue who Unknown really is, or anything of his backstory. As a result, Yoosung becomes the hapless scapegoat, upon whom Saeran projects all of the pain he's endured over his lifetime. 
> 
> His relationship with Yoosung is a paradox--vacillating between rage-driven physical and mental torture, and compassion. Deep down, he knows that Yoosung is not to blame for his issues, and that he does not deserve what's being done to him. However, inflicting pain on Yoosung gives Saeran a deep sense of catharsis--vindication, fulfillment and contentment--something he has never really been able to experience. This feeling...plus the feeling of absolute control over another human being (which means he will not be abandoned as he has been in the past), is a powerful motivator, and easily overrides any feelings of compassion that might ever sway him toward mercy. 
> 
> Thank you for reading, and may God have mercy on my wretched soul...

**Chapter 4: The Training of Yoosung Kim**

Day 3—May 11th

* * *

 

6:57am

 

A loud bang of a metal door, followed by blinding light, shocked Yoosung into alertness.  He had slept, if you can call it that, on the cold concrete floor of his tiny cell, which was more like a cage.  Every part of him hurt; he could barely straighten out his limbs.  He was extremely dehydrated; his lips dry and cracked, his mouth completely dry, and he was unable to swallow.  His throat felt like it was on fire.  He no longer felt hungry, but instead, felt like his strength had been completely drained away, leaving behind a foggy, confused headache and a crushing, burning weakness that threatened his ability to move any part of his body. 

“Wow.  You look even worse now than you did last night!  Didn’t you sleep well?”  Unknown was kneeling on the other side of the metal bars of Yoosung’s cage, the mock concern in this voice hardly disguising the obvious glee he was feeling at Yoosung’s sorry state.  “Here, take a look for yourself.”

He held out a mirror, and Yoosung saw himself for the first time in the two days of his captivity.  He barely recognized his own reflection.  His skin was pale, he still had dried blood on the right side of his face and hair, his eyes were sunken in, and the right eye had a nasty bruise around and above it from the one-inch gash just above his eyebrow.  His lips were cracked and bloody, and his violet eyes were pale and dim…as if the life were gone from them.  He looked away when he had seen enough of his sad reflection.

Unknown chuckled.  “We probably should clean you up a bit before we get started.  But first…”

He opened the door of the enclosure, and stepped inside.  He had to stoop down a bit to avoid hitting his head on the top of the cage, which was only about five feet high.  He produced a leather collar from his back pocket, and fastened it tightly around Yoosung’s neck.  From another pocket, he pulled a long, leather lead, like a dog’s leash, and fastened it to the collar.  Stepping back out of the cage, he gave the leash a tug.  “Come, pet.”  Yoosung’s face flushed in shame, but he wriggled his way out of the cage, as best he could with his hands and feet still firmly bound with the thick leather cuffs.  He felt like a dog.  No…this was worse.  He would never treat a dog the way he was being treated.

He emerged from the cage, and awkwardly managed to stand upright.  His muscles stretched and ached as he stood up in the first time in three days.  Looking around him, he surveyed the room in which he was being kept.

It seemed to be a large room, with high ceilings.  From the ceiling rafters hung several thick chains.  Some had large hooks on them, others had round rings.  One had a pulley at its end.  The walls, made of stone and concrete, were completely devoid of windows, save for one small, rectangular one high up, covered with bars, through which he could see long, green grass, with a brilliant blue sky beyond.  A breeze ruffled the blades of grass framing the window.  Yoosung longed to feel that breeze and sunshine on his face.  It had only been two days, but Yoosung was already losing track of time; he felt like he had been there at least a week already.

From his observations, he could conclude that he was underground—probably in a basement or cellar.  In the corner, the only door to the room was a large, heavy one made of dark metal, with a tiny barred window near the top.  It looked ancient, and the fixtures on it seemed badly rusted.  The walls had several metal loops bolted into the stone, to which things could be hung or fastened. 

The only other structural detail in the room was a large ventilation grate, high up on the wall across from the window.  There seemed to be a circle of fan blades in the darkness of the other side of the grate.  It was rusty and looked like it hadn’t been used or cleaned in years.  Perhaps that accounts for the dank, musty smell that permeated the stagnant air of the room.

In the way of furnishings, the room was just as sparse as the structure.  Aside from the metal cage near the center of the room, one wall featured a long row of simple wooden counters and cabinets, like what you’d see in a kitchen.  There was a deep stone sink, an old microwave, and a small countertop oven.  There was a large wooden cart near the cabinets that seemed to contain a collection of metal implements—rods, hooks, and some other things that Yoosung couldn’t identify, but felt an overwhelming sense of fear from the mere sight of them.  A rack on the wall just beyond the cart contained an assortment of leather straps, whips, what appeared to be horse riding crops, and a large collection of harnesses, ropes, and varying lengths of chain. 

A plain, wooden dining table with two chairs sat near the cart.  Across the room, there was a very narrow bench, like a carpenter’s sawhorse, about 10 feet from the wall and running parallel to it, and it appeared to be bolted to the floor.  There was what appeared to be an electrical service box near the door.  The floor was solid concrete, and the entire room was cold, despite the warm spring temperatures outside.  There was no sign of anything comfortable or comforting anywhere in the room. 

In his clouded, muddled, half-starved mind, Yoosung slowly came to the realization, from what he had observed around the room, that he was most likely about to be tortured.  Fear clutched his throat like a fist, and he began to shake uncontrollably.  He had a very low tolerance for pain, and the thought of what likely lay ahead for him sent dizzying waves of fear crashing over him.

Like a shark circling blood in the water, Unknown sensed the fear rising in his prisoner.  “What is it, my pet?  Are you scared?” he cooed in mock concern, which did nothing to conceal his palpable glee at the control he was already exerting upon his new toy. 

“Aww...don’t worry; I’m going to take care of you.  Yes, I’m going to hurt you...a lot.  But, I’ll make sure you won’t die….at least until I decide that you should.  But I don’t have any plans to kill you at the moment.  You’re my play thing, and I want you fully able to enjoy and participate in our fun!  Oh, I mean,  _MY_  fun!”  He giggled, but with a sickening lack of mirth.  

The sheer terror that wracked Yoosung’s trembling body clearly showed in his wide eyes, which were brimming with tears.  He wanted to say something, but no words would come.  He wanted to beg for mercy, for forgiveness, for leniency, ANYTHING, that would save him from what was surely coming.  Anything that would reach the humanity of this depraved person.

But, Unknown made it clear last night, if he didn’t submit to whatever Unknown wanted to do to him, he’d go after Eleanora.  He had to go through this for her.  To protect her…to save her from this terrible fate.  This thought summoned up a bit of courage, and his trembling subsided somewhat.  He had to be brave for the woman he loved.  He had to be strong for her.  He took a deep breath and tried to steady himself.

“First, we should get you some food.  You can’t serve me very well if you don’t keep your strength up.  I bet you’re a bit thirsty, too.”  Unknown reached into one of the cabinets, and retrieved a can of vegetable soup.  From another cabinet, he retrieved a bowl and a glass.  He dumped the soup into the bowl and placed it into the microwave, then filled the glass with water.  He sat the water on the counter, and then approached Yoosung, still standing shakily outside the cage with his hands and feet bound together.

“Hmm, you’re not going to get far like that,” Unknown indicated Yoosung’s bound feet.  Walking over to the rack on the wall, Unknown selected a chain that was about two feet long, returned to Yoosung, and attached the chain to the cuffs on his ankles.  This allowed him barely enough room to walk in small steps.

“Come, doggy”, he commanded Yoosung, giving the leash a yank.  Yoosung, nearly falling over, complied by taking tiny steps toward Unknown, who directed him to sit in one of the chairs at the dining table.  He then used some rope to tie Yoosung to the chair, so that he was unable to get up or move his arms and hands.  “If you can show me that you can be trusted to behave, maybe I won’t always have to tie you up like this at mealtime.”

The microwave beeped, and Unknown collected the hot bowl of soup and the glass of water, placing both on the table next to Yoosung.  He pulled the other chair around to face Yoosung, sat down, and proceeded to feed him with a spoon.  The soup was hot, and burned Yoosung’s mouth; he sputtered a little before quickly swallowing it, searing his already sore throat as it went down. 

“It’s too hot”, Yoosung said quietly, afraid to voice any complaints, but also afraid of having his mouth and throat scorched again.

“Well, that’s just too bad, isn’t it?”  Unknown snapped, annoyed at the complaint.  “In case you haven’t noticed, this isn’t a five-star hotel.  You had better be happy that I’m even giving you food at all.  I don’t exactly have an endless supply of food here, and I sure as hell don’t have to share it with a pathetic dog like you.  I’ll have to teach you some manners when we’re done here.”  Something about the tone of Unknown’s last sentence made Yoosung tremble.

“I’m sorry,” Yoosung whispered meekly, as he stared at the floor.

“Yes, you will be, very soon,” The ominous words slid like snakes over Unknown’s teeth.  He shoved several more bites into Yoosung’s mouth, barely allowing him time to swallow each one. 

Unknown then grabbed the glass of water and pushed it to Yoosung’s parched mouth.  “I don’t have to give you this, but you won’t be of much use for me if I let you die from dehydration.  So here,” he said, tilting it up, allowing Yoosung to drink.  Yoosung took in as much of the fluid as he could.  It tasted awful, like rust and dirt, but he didn’t care.  It was wet and cool, and felt marvelous as it drenched his dry mouth and throat.  He quickly finished the glass.

“Can I please have some more water?”

“Maybe in a bit, if I feel like it.  I’m anxious to get started with our day.  Today, we begin your training.  I am going to teach you how to be the perfect, obedient little pet.” 

Yoosung trembled, and his meal threatened to come right back up from his unsettled stomach.  Unknown must have sensed Yoosung’s wave of nausea, because he added, “if you throw up, I swear to God I will make you wish you had never been born!” 

Little did he know (or maybe he did), Yoosung was fast approaching that point anyway.  

Just the same, Yoosung swallowed hard, and willed his stomach to settle.  He did not want to do anything that would make his situation worse than it was already.

Unknown untied Yoosung from the chair, stood him up, and led him to the other end of the room, directly under one of the chains that hung from the ceiling.  Pulling his shackled wrists upward, he hooked them together onto the end of the chain.  He then went to the wall, where the chain was connected to a crank, and turned the crank.  This pulled Yoosung upward by his wrists until he was barely able to touch the floor with his toes. 

Unknown walked back over to Yoosung, grinning with wicked satisfaction as Yoosung tried to balance himself on his toes.  He grimaced as his balance faltered, causing his weight to pull against his wrists—which were rubbed raw from wearing the cuffs for the past few days.  “You’re so cute when you’re helpless!” he crowed with glee, as if he had seen an adorable baby animal at the zoo. 

“Let’s get rid of some of these ridiculous clothes.  You dress like a child.  What are you, five years old?”  Unknown pulled a utility knife from his pocket, and proceeded to slit Yoosung’s blue hoodie until it fell to the ground in shreds.  Then, he made quick work of his blue and green striped t-shirt until it met the same fate.  Bending down, he removed Yoosung’s sneakers and socks, so that he was hanging from the ceiling, arms stretched high above his head, wearing only a leather collar and his jeans. The pull against his wrists forced the muscles in his back, sides and abdomen to strain, rippling under his pale, smooth skin. 

“Wow, who knew you’d turn out to be both cute AND sexy?  I’m very pleased!”  Unknown was eyeing his prisoner with a gaze that made Yoosung flush with shame.  He was desperate to say something, to plead with his captor, but he knew that anything he said would likely make his situation worse---and possibly endanger Eleanora, which is something he would not risk.  Instead, he hung his head to the ground, avoiding Unknown’s piercing green eyes, and tried to hide the tears spilling onto his face.

“You’re crying,  _again?_  My God, you’re such a pathetic little baby.  I honestly don’t know what your girlfriend sees in you.  You’re so fucking  _weak!”_   Unknown sneered at the now openly sobbing Yoosung.  “Let’s see if we can give you something to legitimately cry about.”

Unknown went over to the rack, pausing to survey the available choices, then selected a leather whip.  It was thin, but consisted of dozens of small, braided leather strips twisted and woven together, each forming regular teeth-like ridges all along the whip’s length.  While the teeth weren’t really sharp, they were more than capable of delivering a lacerating bite to the skin when struck with a skilled hand.  Uncoiling it, he stood a few feet behind Yoosung’s back.  He took his swing, and the whip whistled through the air as it flew toward its mark.

CRACK!  

The rough leather tore into Yoosung’s flesh just above the small of his back, with expert accuracy. 

The sharp sound echoed through the room, immediately followed by an agonized, piercing scream, which lasted until Yoosung’s lungs were completely emptied of breath.  After his scream subsided, he still hung there, eyes round and unfocused, vacant in expression, hot tears streaming down his face and neck, his mouth still agape.  His face was a deep crimson.  His lungs felt like they could collapse…he could not breathe, he could not think.  The searing pain was unbearable; he felt like his back had been flayed open down to his spine.

“Holy fuck, you are a loud, whiny bitch.  You’re going to give me a headache if you keep that up.  Let’s see what I can do to fix that.”  A loud, protracted gasp cut the air as Yoosung struggled to draw air back into his lungs.

Unknown went back over to the rack, and picked up a ball gag.  He walked slowly back over to Yoosung, making eye contact with him as he approached.  He relished the pain and terror in his captive’s pale violet eyes, now red and bloodshot.  As he reached up to place the gag into Yoosung’s mouth, he rested his hands on either side of Yoosung’s face, and, with a swipe of his thumbs, he wiped away his tears.  Cold emerald eyes stared into wide amethyst ones.  “You are so beautiful like this.  And almost irresistible when you’re helpless and suffering.”  He said, with a gentleness—almost a reverence—that both frightened and confused his helpless prisoner. 

“Open wide,” commanded Unknown, as he grasped Yoosung's trembling chin between his thumb and forefinger, pulling down.  Yoosung obeyed, opening his mouth to accept the large rubber ball.  Unknown then shoved the gag deep into Yoosung’s mouth, filling it with the hard rubber.  The ball was almost too big, and Yoosung’s jaw ached under the strain as his mouth was forced open far beyond what it would normally be.   Yoosung was now completely unable to breathe or get any sound from his mouth.  His nose was running and slightly stuffy from crying, so it became more difficult to catch his breath using only his nose.  He soon had saliva and snot running down his face and falling in thin streams from his chin.  None of this registered much in his consciousness, though.  All his mind could focus on was the raging hot, raw, stinging welt that had just landed across the small of his back.  Tiny rivulets of blood were forming along the narrow strip of freshly seared flesh.

The next strike of the whip fell hard and without warning across Yoosung’s shoulder blades.  Being hit across the bony protrusions hurt a hundred times more than the first strike; the scales of the leather whip bit deeper into the flesh, ripping bits of it away and leaving a raw, bleeding mess.  Feeling tiny chunks of flesh effectively being flayed from his back, Yoosung almost blacked out.  His involuntary scream was successfully contained by the gag, and only a pitiful, broken whine was heard through the rubber that filled his mouth.  Eyes rolling back in his head, his body lolled forward for a moment as his legs failed him, but the pain this put on his sore wrists forced him to regain his footing as best he could.  His toes, bare against the hard concrete, cramped and ached under the burden of supporting most of his body weight.  Quiet sobs rocked his body.  The next lash hit off-center of his back, the end of the whip curling around Yoosung's right side and ripping into the sensitive area just above his hip.  His knees buckled.  The only sounds he made were muffled grunts and moans as his head hung limp, his chin dropped onto his chest.

The onslaught of the leather whip continued for almost half an hour.  After each blow of the whip, Unknown would stop to admire the quivering, bloody mess that was his captive pet.  His joy at Yoosung’s suffering could barely be contained.  For him, it was a spiritual experience, oddly cleansing, purging all of the hurt dealt to him over his miserable lifetime by those who were supposed to protect him.  It was a release…a relief…and he was fast becoming addicted to this incredible feeling—of having complete control over another person, and projecting a lifetime of pain onto that person.  He felt a weird, twisted sense of happiness...the first time in his life that he was anywhere close to feeling happy.

By the time the ordeal was over, Yoosung’s back and sides were a mess of thin, angry red welts, some of which were oozing small trickles of blood.  Yoosung was still sobbing softly, but only an exhausted, half-hearted whimper could be heard from behind the gag.  His body hung helplessly by his wrists; his legs having long since given out.  Eyes closed tightly, Yoosung silently prayed for the sweet relief of death to take him, or at least to fall unconscious, but sadly, neither would come and save him from this agony. 

This was only the beginning of his personal, living hell.  Mercifully, Unknown’s appetite for Yoosung’s suffering was sated for the time being, so he decided to allow him to spend the remainder of the day “resting” in his cage, while he retreated to his quarters to take a nap himself.  He even allowed his prisoner to have his wrists unbound, though his legs remained shackled, and the ball gag remained firmly in place. “Can’t spoil you too much, my pet,” he snarled with a fake, saccharine sweetness.  Yoosung laid in one place, not moving one inch, and cried until he fell into a broken, fitful sleep.  He dreamed of Eleanora.  He didn’t know what she looked like physically, but his soul recognized hers, and he felt her spirit with him—and that was something that no amount of suffering could take away.  He could endure anything for her, and he felt honor in being in the position to prove it.

 

* * *

 

Day 4—May 12th

9:08am

 

The next morning, Yoosung could barely move.  Not only were his limbs sore and stiff, but any movement at all caused a searing pain in his back and sides, the skin of which was nearly completely covered in swollen welts.  Some were crimson and raw, still seeping blood, while others were angry bruises ranging in color from shades of blue, to purple, to dark pink.  He had a terrible headache from the long hours of reduced oxygen supply forced upon him by the gag, as he could only breathe about half as well with his mouth full of rubber. 

Though his hands were left unbound throughout the night, it had never occurred to him that he could remove the gag himself.  He simply accepted its presence as a given.  The training was progressing well.

The metal door banged, announcing Unknown’s morning arrival.  He stormed into the room, seemingly in an anxious mood.  He paced back and forth, and around Yoosung’s cage, while Yoosung followed him intently with his sunken, bloodshot eyes, still not willing to move his body.

“There’s been a search party poking around outside.” he said, irritability lacing his words. Taking on a subtle tone of condescension, he added, “I do believe they might have been looking for you.” 

He then got a terrible idea.  “Thought I might have even seen your lady friend out there.  Man, she looks terrible.  She was crying and calling your name.  So, so sad!  She looks almost as cute in tears as you do!”  He laughed cruelly. 

Of course, even though he didn’t get a very good look at the search crew, he was relatively certain that Eleanora wasn’t among them.  However, that didn’t stop him from taking the opportunity to mind-fuck his helpless captive.  He relished the look on Yoosung’s face—a strange mixture of hope, mixed with anguish and terror at the thought of his sweet girl being anywhere near this vicious, dangerous madman. 

The look of false hope in Yoosung’s eyes reminded Unknown so much of his own experiences.  Someone important from his past  _promised_  he’d come back for him.  Countless times he would hear footsteps, a door opening or closing, anything at all, really—but that glimmer of hope would always end up being crushed out like a discarded cigarette. 

 _What could this…pathetic boy—this…privileged college student…possibly know about suffering?!?!_    Unknown thought, as rage built up inside.

This boy must suffer….he must be made to feel the same level of pain that has been inflicted upon himself over a lifetime of physical and mental abuse.  As these thoughts wrestled furiously in his mind, he became enraged by his own confusion, and his expression grew sinister.  

He knelt down to Yoosung’s level and looked him dead in the eyes. “Don’t get that pathetic look on your face.  It’s not like they’re actually going to find you.  This place is completely off the grid, and there’s not even a record of it in the local government’s property files.  As far as anyone knows, this place doesn’t exist.  Which is precisely why I brought you here.” 

Yoosung’s eyes lowered, the hopeful flicker in his eyes dying out like an extinguished candle.  Pleased with the mental torment he was inflicting, Unknown continued, “That rich boy Jumin Han can send all the high-dollar search teams his trust fund money can afford…all they’re going to see is an old, abandoned farm site, like dozens of others around the region.  Nobody will hear you scream, either--this place is completely soundproof."

Unknown regarded Yoosung’s defeated expression.  “Aww, Don’t look so sad!  It doesn’t mean that we aren’t going to still have some fun today!”  Unknown was almost singing with excitement.  He opened the cage, and yanked Yoosung out.  Yoosung whimpered into his gag as he was forced by the pull of the leash onto the seared flesh of his back.  Unknown laughed at his suffering.  “Oh, I’m sorry….did that hurt?” he sneered sarcastically.  “No, actually I’m not sorry at all!  Ha!”  He laughed as if he made a funny inside joke. 

He fastened Yoosung’s hands together and led him to the narrow sawhorse bench near the wall.   “Stay here.  If you move, your girlfriend dies,” he ordered sternly.  “It would be so easy to lure her in, with her right outside,” he gleefully lied through his teeth.  Not knowing any better, Yoosung stood perfectly still while Unknown went to the rack and surveyed the different lengths of chain.  Believing that his love was possibly nearby, he couldn’t stop the tears sliding silently down his cheeks. 

“I think these ones will do,” he muttered as he selected a pair of chains each about six feet long.  After unfastening the wrist cuffs from each other, one end of each chain was attached to each wrist, and the other ends of the chains were attached, about six feet apart, to the wall directly in front of him.  This pulled Yoosung’s arms so that he was forced to bend at his waist, which was firmly pressed against the wooden bench. He was left bending at a 90-degree angle, hips and waist anchored firmly against the bench, his arms apart and outstretched in front of him.  Walking around Yoosung’s backside, he knelt down and removed the chains that connected his ankles.  Kicking his feet outward to the sides, causing his legs to spread apart, he fastened each ankle to the legs of the bench.  Yoosung was now tightly held in place, legs spread, body bent at the waist into a 90-degree angle, arms tightly stretched out in front of him.  There was no comfortable or natural position for him to place his head, so he laid it awkwardly on his outstretched upper arms.  His ruined back was prominently on display, stretched excruciatingly to the point where some of the fresh wounds from the previous day began to bleed again.  

Unknown could be heard rummaging through something.  Then, slow footsteps announced his approach from behind.  Suddenly, Yoosung felt arms circling his waist, then hands reaching for the front of his jeans and fumbling with the button and zipper.  Realizing what was likely about to happen to him, Yoosung started struggling in panic against his restraints.  The ball gag still in his mouth, he could not speak, but he still desperately tried to beg Unknown to not do this.  He was still a virgin; he didn’t want his first sexual experience to be like this. 

 _“Please, no.  Not this, anything but this.  Please don’t.  I don’t want this.  Please don’t…..”_   All that came from his gagged mouth was a series of grunts and whining, punctuated by scratchy breaks in his failing voice.

“Shut up.”  Unknown barked coldly.

CRACK!  A thick leather strap landed with impressive force squarely across Yoosung’s violated back.  A scream tried to escape his gagged mouth, but only a hoarse squeak would come from his throat.  He clenched his eyes shut.  He wanted to cry, but his body was too shocked to comply.  Every muscle tensed, and he felt like he could die on the spot.  He WANTED to die on the spot.  His vision dimmed, but the blessed relief of unconsciousness wouldn’t claim him.  The only thing that snapped him out of his delirium of agony was the sensation of tugging on his jeans, followed by the sound of a blade ripping through the thick denim as his jeans were cut away.  The blood and dirt stained fabric fell to the floor in pieces.

Soon, he was left in this compromised position with only his boxer shorts providing only a small pretense of protection from whatever violation was surely coming.  Unknown worked slowly in removing these, clearly savoring the pain and humiliation he was inflicting on his prisoner.  In moments, Yoosung was completely naked.  He had never felt so vulnerable and ashamed.  The rough wood of the sawhorse bench dug splinters into his hips as he wriggled—trying desperately to hide, to escape, anything to avoid what was about to happen to him.

“You have such a gorgeous ass. I could worship it.”  Unknown seemed almost reverent in his observation.  He caressed it tenderly, making Yoosung squirm awkwardly in his unforgiving restraints.  “I am now going to claim it as my own, my plaything, to do with as I wish.”  Withdrawing his hand, Unknown brought it down again with a hard slap across a flawless pale cheek.  Yoosung jumped and gave a shocked squeak.

The sound of a zipper broke the silence, and Yoosung felt a hard, warm object press at his backside.  He had never had any kind of sexual experience, at least, not with another person, but he had a fairly good idea of what was about to happen.  His mind raced in panic, as he desperately tried to disassociate himself from his body.  He wanted to faint, or even die—anything but be mentally present for what was about to happen to him.  He felt Unknown’s hands spread open his butt cheeks, and the hard knob of Unknown’s cock pressed at the opening, where it paused for a moment.  Yoosung clenched his eyes shut and tried to brace himself.  Unknown paused, his cock at full attention and standing at the ready just outside of its intended target. 

“Oh, wait, I forgot something important.  I’m getting a little too eager, I guess.  How could I not with a beautiful virgin ass like yours is just waiting to be taken—like an unwrapped gift on Christmas morning!”  He walked around to Yoosung’s head, stepping over one of the chains that held his hands, so that he was standing between his helpless, tightly outstretched arms, his erection was pointing directly into Yoosung’s horrified face.  Disgusted and embarrassed, Yoosung tried to turn his head away.

“No, no, no...my beautiful little pet.  Face me.”  Yoosung complied, fearful of what any alternative response might bring.

Unknown reached around the back of Yoosung’s head and unfastened the gag, which fell unheeded to the floor.  After being partially unable to breathe for hours, Yoosung instinctively and immediately tried to take a deep breath through his mouth.  With the reflexes of a lynx, Unknown moved in one fluid motion, grabbing each side of Yoosung’s head by his hair, yanking his head back, and shoving his throbbing cock into Yoosung’s open, gasping mouth.

“If I feel any teeth, they will be ripped out, one by one.  That’s not a threat—that’s a promise.” Unknown growled as he began thrusting in and out.  Yoosung’s eyes clenched shut, as he did his best to accommodate the invading member.  Unknown thrust deeper and deeper, never loosening the hold on his captive’s hair, so that he had complete control.  Yoosung tried to suppress his gag reflex, but failed miserably. 

“Uggg, Ugggh, Uhhnnggg,” he choked, as he became aware of Unknown’s balls slapping at his chin, and his nose being crammed into thick, dark pubic hair.  Yoosung was repulsed by the musky odor of Unknown’s crotch, and tried not to breathe, and he kept his eyes tightly shut.  He tried to mentally separate himself from this disgusting and humiliating place with every exhausted and agonized fiber of his being, but it was impossible.  His mind began to spin in dizzy confusion as he slowly began to suffocate, forcing him to gasp for air at every opportunity.

The face-fucking continued for several minutes.  Unknown had no particular rhythm, varying from slow, long thrusts, to fast, jerky ones.  Not once did he release Yoosung’s hair or the vise grip he had on his head.  Yoosung repeatedly felt the urge to throw up, but fought hard against it, fearful for what might happen if he did.  Unknown moaned softly and Yoosung could feel the cock in his mouth grow even harder, and pulsate slightly.

“Suck it,” Unknown ordered.  Yoosung did his best to obey, sucking until his cheeks sank inward.  He felt even more degraded by the vulgar slurping sounds that resulted from his efforts. 

“Mmmmm….that’s right.   _Good boy_.”  Unknown cooed the words of praise as if he was speaking to a dog who was mastering a new trick.  He released his fistful of blond hair to gently stroke the side of Yoosung’s head, as if rewarding an obedient puppy.

Suddenly, Unknown pulled out. Breathlessly, he exclaimed, “Wow… _You are a natural!_   Are you sure you’ve never done this before?”  He chuckled as he stroked Yoosung’s cheek with his cock, which was now dripping with saliva. 

“I never expected you to be so good with your pretty little mouth.  It was really hard to pull out before I finished.  However, I must save my load for that spectacular ass!”  Yoosung’s mouth was slack, and he was left gagging and coughing on the saliva and pre-cum fluids that had made their way into his windpipe as he gasped for air.  Humiliated, he dropped his head to avoid Unknown’s eyes. 

Returning to Yoosung’s backside, he once again spread the cheeks open to expose Yoosung’s pink, tight hole.  Without warning, as Yoosung was still trying to clear his airway and catch his breath, Unknown shoved his cock in all the way, all at once.  As he buried his full length into Yoosung’s body, he felt his member tearing mercilessly through the small, tight muscles that control the opening, and causing immediate bleeding. 

Yoosung’s head shot back, his back arched, and a blood-curdling scream escaped his lips, continuing until his voice was completely gone and the only sound he could make was a weak, raspy groan.  No pain he had experienced so far compared to this.  He felt like he was being sawed in half from the inside.  

Unknown smiled maniacally, moaning loudly in ecstasy as he plowed in and out of his squirming, gagging, coughing, sobbing mess.  He gripped Yoosung’s hips so tightly that his long, polished fingernails dug into the soft flesh.  Warm, slick blood gushed out with each thrust, sliding down Yoosung’s spread out legs in thin red streams that flowed all the way to his bare feet and onto the concrete floor. 

Yoosung’s head dropped, as he was once again nearing blackout.  His vision faded, and he felt perilously close to losing consciousness.  Uncontrollable sobs wracked his body; the deep, guttural heaves caused involuntary muscle contractions which only served to add to his violator’s pleasure, signaled by even more intense moaning.  

 _“You…. Feel…. So…. Fucking….Good….”_ He punctuated each word with a thrust and a grunt. 

As Unknown neared his finish,  the room fell oddly quiet; the only sounds that could be heard are the squelching sounds from Unknown’s thrusts, and Yoosung’s quiet, desperate sobs.  Finally, Unknown found his release, groaned in pleasure, and sank to the floor. 

Yoosung was left bent over, hanging limp like a dishtowel over the bench.  Every ounce of strength was drained from his body, as his own blood, mixed with Unknown’s semen, streamed in thin pink ribbons down both of his legs and onto the floor.

After a few minutes to collect himself, Unknown slowly stood up, put his pants back on, and walked back around to Yoosung’s head.  Kneeling down, he whispered into Yoosung’s ear,  _“You are amazing.  I have never felt that good in my life.  You are mine, forever.”_  

Yoosung heard the words, but didn’t comprehend them.  His eyes were still clenched shut, his face still contorted in agony, his mind unable to fully process the overwhelming pain; he was certain that his insides had been shredded.  Unknown gently stroked Yoosung’s red, tear-soaked cheek.  Slipping his hand under his chin, and tenderly lifting his head up to face him, Unknown bent down and planted a kiss on Yoosung’s forehead.  “Thank you,” he whispered to his unwilling lover, almost reverently, and without so much as a hint of irony.

 

* * *

 

Day 5—May 13th

10:22am

 

Yoosung had pleased his captor well the previous day, so he was treated to a more proper breakfast of an omurice (without ketchup) and orange juice for breakfast.  Unknown even allowed him to feed himself, only tying him to the chair from the waist down, leaving his hands free, though, as always, he still wore the thick leather cuffs.  The skin under the cuffs was starting to become severely irritated, but Yoosung didn’t dare say anything about it, for fear of bringing punishment upon himself.  He was dressed in a tattered, but clean pair of jeans, but remained shirtless and barefoot since yesterday’s “training session”.  His bare back was a mess of multicolored stripes.

Yoosung ate in silence, not really tasting his food.  Despite everything, he did have somewhat of an appetite this morning.  He eagerly drank the glass of orange juice and the glass of water that sat next to his plate.   Unknown sat across the table from him, eyeing him intently as he finished his breakfast.

“I wonder what we should do today?” Unknown casually wondered as he continued to watch Yoosung eat.  Yoosung looked up at him, fear flashing in his eyes, his appetite suddenly vanished. 

“Yoosung, what do  _you_  think we should do?”  The question caught Yoosung off guard.  It was the first time Unknown had called him by his name. He looked questioningly at Unknown, unsure of how to respond.  He never was very good at addressing loaded questions. 

“Wh…what do you want to d...do?”  He asked Unknown, his voice wavering as he fearfully considered what horrible things might serve as an answer to that question.

“Well, as my pet-in-training, I think you are beginning to understand now the nature of our relationship—that I am your  _Master_ , and you exist only for my pleasure.  That is your only purpose, and if you outlive your usefulness in fulfilling that purpose, you will be replaced… _with Eleanora_.  And your last moments will be spent watching  _her_ training.   _Do you understand all of this?”_

“Yes,” Yoosung’s face was turned down, tears once again burning his face as he was forced to imagine the horrible thought that was just presented to him.

“Yes, what?” Unknown’s voice was suddenly loud and sharp.  Yoosung flinched.

“Yes, sir” His voice was flat, almost a whisper.

“Yes….. _who_?   What did I just tell you, dumbass?” Unknown demanded impatiently, a hint of anger seeping from his words.

“…yes…M-Master.”  Yoosung stammered fearfully, as he tried ineffectively to stifle his trembling.

“That’s better.  You’re a bit… _slow_ , aren’t you?  I thought I saw in your records that you used to be a model student in high school.  Guess your brain is rotted from playing video games.  Oh, well…It looks like you need some more training to fully know your place, and to understand and embrace who I am to you.”  Yoosung felt a chill run through his veins, and shivered involuntarily.

Unknown laughed.  “My  _God_ , you are so cute.  I bet you hear that a lot.  Or, used to, anyway.  I think you’re even cuter when you’re scared, like you are right now.”  Yoosung glanced downward, his face flushed at the backhanded compliment.

“Yes, Master.” 

“Very good, my little cutie pie.  You learn quickly.”  Unknown flashed a smile that showed no real emotion, and stood up from his place at the table.  “Since you don’t seem to have any clue of what you want to do today, I’ll have to decide for us.  I think I have a few ideas.  You might even like them!”  He sounded giddy and innocent, almost like a kid asking his buddy next door to come out to play.

Untying Yoosung from his chair, he led him by the leash to the far wall of the room.  The wall had numerous loops bolted into the cold, gray stones, and it was two of these loops to which he fastened Yoosung’s wrist cuffs, so that his arms were fully extended to each side, and slightly over his head.  As he was pushed against the wall, his back—still extremely inflamed and swollen by the lashing he received two days ago, scraped painfully against the rocks, causing him to cry out.

“Oops, sorry,” Unknown snickered, not sounding very sorry at all, as he knelt down and fastened each of Yoosung’s ankle cuffs to a loop, leaving him firmly fixed, spread-eagle, to the stone wall. 

“Now, we’re going to play a little game.  And, my sweet pet, this game will be more fun if you don’t see what’s going on.  Let’s see, where did I put that wonderful mask? I can’t wait to show it to you!” said Unknown, striding over to the cart and rummaging around in its compartments.  He pushed the cart over so that it sat near Yoosung, and fished out a black leather mask.  “Ah, here it is.  You’ll look amazing in this little thing!”  He slid the mask over Yoosung’s head, and it covered his entire head, with only small holes over the areas under the nose and around the mouth.  Reaching behind Yoosung’s head, he fastened the mask into place. 

“Did you know that when a person is deprived of one of their senses, it makes the remaining senses much more perceptive?  For example, a blind person will have much more sensitive hearing, and will also be much more perceptive to touch.  I think it will be fun to explore that concept.  Don’t you?”

Yoosung stood in silence, trying to keep his breathing as controlled as possible so he wouldn’t feel like he was suffocating inside the heavy leather mask.

“I said, DON’T YOU?”  Unknown said, raising his voice on the last two words.  Yoosung flinched.

“Yes, Master!” he responded quickly through the leather.

“I believe that you do need some manners training.  It’s very rude to ignore questions when you’re asked.” 

“No, Master.  I...I have manners.  I’m sorry, I won’t mess up again, I promise. Please…” Yoosung said pleadingly, his voice somewhat muffled by the mask.

Unknown was right—having one sense taken away does indeed sharpen the other senses—Yoosung heard the sound of Unknown’s pocket knife being flicked open.  The sound made Yoosung’s words die in his throat, and the blood to turn to ice in his veins.

Then---fire.  The cold, steel blade slid into the skin of his chest just below his collarbone, and slowly moved downward, slicing as it went.  Yoosung screamed involuntarily as he felt the cold steel carving into his skin, inch by painful inch _.  Oh, God…_ this was unbearable.

Still holding the blade into Yoosung’s skin with his dominant hand, he suddenly slammed his free hand, open-palmed, into Yoosung’s mouth and nose, effectively covering them and cutting off his air supply, which was already limited by the small holes in the mask.  His head jerked back against the collar, slamming the back of his skull into the stone wall with a painful crack.  He whimpered softly as his mind swirled in stunned shock from the blow.

Unknown held his hand tightly on Yoosung’s masked face, as if he was trying to grind his head into the stone wall.  He spoke slowly, taking the time to enjoy watching his prisoner struggling to breathe.  The knife remained in Yoosung’s flesh, but Unknown moved it ever so slightly as he spoke quietly and directly into Yoosung’s ear.  

“You WILL stop screaming like a fucking baby, or I swear to God, I will end you right now.  Then, I will do to HER exactly what I’ve done to you so far.  You are a grown-ass man, so act like it!”  Unknown growled.

“Have I made myself abundantly clear?” he sputtered, as he lifted the knife from the fresh, bleeding cut running about 6 inches long.

"Mmm-hmm," Yoosung attempted to answer in the affirmative without making the slightest movement.  Satisfied, Unknown released his grip.  Yoosung gasped and coughed, gulping in as much air as the leather mask would let him, while his brain felt like it was throbbing in sync with his rapid heartbeat.  His mind twirled, and his grip on consciousness threatened to give way.

Once again, Yoosung felt the blade of the knife stroke his skin, but it did not cut.  Again and again, Unknown deftly and delicately teased the skin of Yoosung’s chest, the insides of his outstretched arms, his stomach, his sides, and his neck with the blade.  These light strokes tickled and stung at the same time, almost feeling pleasant.  Each time, however, Yoosung’s breath caught in his throat as he feared the inevitable.  Then, as the blade is being softly drawn across his left side, Unknown pressed it suddenly into Yoosung’s tender flesh, cutting into him even deeper this time.

“Mmmmmmmhhhh,” Yoosung tried his best to stifle his broken, agonized reaction as the blade sliced through him.  His hands clenched into fists so tightly that he could feel his fingernails digging into the flesh of his palms.  Tears stung his eyes behind the thick, hot mask.  He felt every hot, stinging inch, and could hear his skin ripping under the knife’s pressure.  He became aware of the warm, sticky wetness as blood spilled onto his exposed skin, followed by a cooler sensation as the tiniest air currents in the room caressed the wetness.  He then became aware of the metallic scent of his own blood. 

This “exercise” went on for another hour—though it felt like much longer—dozens of excruciating slashes through his skin…some long, some short, some deep, some just breaking the surface.  He was cut on both arms, his neck, his chest, his sides, and his stomach. 

Once Unknown grew bored of his bloody game, he cleaned off of his knife, flicked it closed and put it away.  He casually walked over to the sink and washed Yoosung’s blood from his hands and arms, dried them with a towel, and returned to the blood-soaked mess that hung limply on the wall.  Yoosung had passed out at least ten minutes earlier, unable to continue the mental and physical burden of stifling his cries while enduring such extreme torment. 

“Pathetic weakling,” Unknown muttered under his breath.  He removed the leather mask, then surveyed his work, proudly displayed on the cellar wall. He found exquisite pleasure in spilling the blood of this helpless boy.  "Pathetic…but so beautiful," he sighed.

Casually strolling to a spigot on the wall, Unknown picked up a water hose curled nearby.  He attached one end of the hose to the wall spigot, and the other end to a pressure sprayer nozzle, designed to clean farm equipment.  Opening the spigot as far as it would go, he aimed the powerful blast of water, pumped directly from the deep, ice-cold groundwater well under the farm, onto Yoosung’s exposed, shredded skin.  It only took a minute or so for the barrage of water to remove all of the old blood that had crusted on Yoosung’s skin; however, the fresh blood from the knife slashes still flowed, tinting the water sheeting from his body a bright pink as it swirled to the room’s central French drain.  Still unconscious, Yoosung’s body only managed a small shudder in response to the icy assault.

After his “bath”, Unknown unfastened Yoosung’s cuffs from the wall, allowing him to slump to the wet, blood-streaked floor.  Hooking his arms under Yoosung’s, he pulled him into the cage.  He didn’t bother to restrain him inside the cage; he just left him lying on the floor, in a growing puddle of water mixed with blood, and locked the door.  Yoosung’s breaths came shallow, fast, and erratic, punctuated with occasional soft whimpers and moans.  His body involuntarily convulsed in shock from cold and pain.  Retreating for the night, Unknown silently walked to the door, turned off the light, and left the room, the metal door clanging shut behind him.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you made it this far, thank you! 
> 
> Hope you are enjoying the story so far--it gets better soon!


	5. As Long As She's Safe...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's now been 231 days since Yoosung was kidnapped by Saeran (Unknown in this story). 
> 
> It's in the wee hours of Christmas morning, and sleepless Unknown decides to visit his pet in the cellar. Finding Yoosung running a fever and clearly sick, he panics and makes the difficult and risky decision to connect remotely to the Mint Eye servers in order to connect to the internet and find out what to do to help Yoosung. 
> 
> Little does he know, that someone was watching as he made his connection, and that unexpected company would be arriving in just a few hours...

**Chapter 5: As Long As She’s Safe…**

Day 231—December 25th

* * *

 

1:07am 

 

Yoosung shivered in his cage, mindlessly staring at the little window at the top of the wall, as the slightest hint of moonlight broke through the thick clouds to make its way into the otherwise pitch-black room.  It’s been over seven months since his capture, but the passage of time has long since became meaningless…as meaningless as his life:  his past, his future, his forgotten hopes and dreams.  None of it mattered anymore.

The only thing that gave Yoosung any clue about the passage of time (not that he particularly cared anymore), was the temperature….along with what little he could see through the tiny, bar-covered window high up in the cellar wall.  That window had become his favorite thing to look at, a focal point to distract him from his pain and misery.  He spent a lot of time just staring at it, trying to imagine what else besides grass and sky were on the other side of the glass and bars. 

When he first arrived at the farm cellar, which now seems like many lifetimes ago, the temperature was warmer, the grass was long and green; the sky beyond was bright, blue and clear.  He watched as the grass grew longer, thicker, greener, and then die down; the skies beyond giving up the cheerful blue for melancholy gray clouds.  Now, the grass was brown and dead, and the sky was dark and foreboding, with a distinct icy-sharp tang to the air, which penetrated the ground and the rocks—the walls of the cellar and the bars of his cage.

And…it was cold…so, so cold.  Yoosung’s breaths were hanging in front of his face in a cloud.  As a little boy, he used to love making clouds with his breath on a cold day, but he had now come to hate the fleeting wisps of condensation.  They meant that he was still alive, still being forced to exist against his will, having Master’s pleasures ripped from his flesh. 

He’d give anything for rest...for the sweet nothingness of death to claim his broken body and shattered soul.  He had tried holding his breath until he passed out, but that only resulted in worsening his already pounding headache.   _He was so tired._   Tired...of living…of breathing…of existing…of being….of hurting...of suffering.  Each breath wracked him with pain—not only from the frigid air assaulting his lungs like a million needles— but from the whole-body effort it now took for him to draw each breath.  He hurt---everywhere.  He hurt so badly.  Pain was his constant companion, and made its presence known with every thought, every movement, and every agonized breath.  Pain was his only reality.

What he wouldn’t give to make it end? 

_Eleanora._

He'd give anything… _except her._

 _As long as she was safe_ ….His thoughts broke into pieces…he could hardly maintain a coherent thought process anymore. 

No part of him had been left untouched or unscathed.  There were no secrets, no horrible sensation left to discover.  Every way a person could feel pain--physically, mentally, psychologically--he had experienced, he was certain of it. 

In his months of captivity in the cellar, Master had fully explored every inch of Yoosung. 

At this point, he knew Yoosung’s body better than Yoosung did.  He knew exactly how to expertly extract the most beautiful and purifying pain and suffering from his beloved pet:  Where to strike, where to cut, where to apply electrical voltage—and where and how to touch him or stroke him to make him moan with ecstasy—against his will.  

 _That_  was the worst, the ultimate humiliation…to be betrayed by one’s own body. 

Of course, that was the most delicious thrill of all for Master, for it meant that he could not only control Yoosung’s suffering, but also his pleasure.  He owned this beautiful, broken boy completely—every precious, delicate inch of him. 

He had created and directed his own twisted symphony.  He played Yoosung’s body like a maestro’s instrument.  The music gave the master life—even as it took it away from the instrument itself.

 

_As long as she was safe…_

This was his never-ending world of torment.  The one thing that kept him sane was reminding himself why he was there….to protect the love of his life—to save her from a terrible fate by taking it onto himself. 

 _As long as she was safe_ , he could endure anything…and endure, he did. 

Occasionally, he would offer Yoosung his freedom—with the condition that he would take Eleanora in his place.  Every time, without hesitation, he would choose all over again to stay. 

_As long as she was safe..._

In the beginning, he could at least get Yoosung to cry, but this became less and less frequent.  As time dragged on, Yoosung would usually just stare blankly ahead, dull, faded eyes focused on some invisible, distant thing.  Sometimes, Master would get angry at “being ignored” and lash into an intense torture session, the kind that ripped from Yoosung screams that were loud enough to barely pierce through the soundproofing of the tumbledown old barn cellar.  Fortunately (for Master), this happened rarely, but not nearly as rarely as it was to see anyone in such a remote location.  It had been months since anyone had visited the remote property—hikers, hunters, search crews, or anyone else.  "Scream all you want, dog.  Nobody is around to hear you.  _Nobody cares, and nobody is coming for you…ever."_  he would coldly tell Yoosung.

Despite everything, even in the moments he so desperately wished for death, Yoosung never once lost hope completely.  He came waveringly, precariously, mind-breakingly close, but held on as tightly as he could to his love for Eleanora, and her love for him, which he could still feel across the miles, through the stone walls, and through all of the agonizing, soul-eviscerating suffering.  The mere thought of his love for her managed to pierce the darkness like a fireball streaking across the sky.  This is what kept him alive, and kept him from losing his grip on his sanity, no matter what Master did or said to him.

By now, Yoosung knew that, even if he did manage to ever get away, he would never be the same—he would always carry the scars and pain from his experiences here—in his mind as well as his body.  His skin was covered in sores, cuts, scars, bruises, and burns.  Some of the wounds were infected; oozing foul-smelling fluids.  He had broken bones that had either healed incorrectly, or never healed at all.  He had lost so much weight that he was barely more than a skeleton. 

He knew that death couldn’t elude him for much longer; he felt its grip beginning to creep up on him.  He welcomed the idea of rest… of relief.  The thought of death was one of the only things that could bring the slightest hint of a smile to his face. 

His only regret in facing his death was never getting to see his beloved Eleanora's face, to touch her, kiss her, to spend his life with her, to marry her, to have a family with her, and to make her feel his love for the rest of his life.  But, as long as she was able to live,  _as long as she was safe_ , everything—every cut, every bruise, every burn, every broken bone, every forced sexual encounter, every humiliation—it was  _worth it,_  all of it.  Every wordless scream, every tear, every drop of blood, every dark moment….. _worth it._   If he must forfeit his life for her sake, then it was a life well spent. 

_As long as she’s safe…_

As he sat in the freezing cell, curled up in his cage and shivering in the cold, a fever ravaging his frail body, the metal door clanged open and shut again, and the lights came on.  Yoosung cowered at the sudden sound and light shattering the silent darkness. 

_What time was it?_

_What did it really matter?_

“Merry Christmas, my beautiful pet!”  Master declared with a smile that was less unpleasant than usual.  “I couldn’t wait until morning……I’m here to receive my gift from you, and maybe give you a gift, too.  If you behave.”  He purred, as he shook the snow off of his shoes and coat, then proceeded to the kitchen to find something to eat for Yoosung.  In this rare moment, he was cheerful and feeling generous.

_Christmas._

Yoosung felt a hint of sadness tugging at his heart as memories of last year’s RFA Christmas party flooded his mind.  This would have been his first Christmas with Eleanora, the first of many, and they would have probably been attending the party at Jumin’s together that evening _…if only…_

He pulled himself out of his reverie, reminding himself of his resignation.

That innocent boy is long, long gone, along with his past and his future.

His fevered delirium began to set his thoughts into a downward spiral and, for the first time, he truly felt himself begin to let go of reality. 

He didn’t try to fight it.  He didn't care anymore. 

As insanity crept in for the kill, instead of fighting it, he embraced it, and let it take him.  Nothing mattered anymore.

_Master._

_My beautiful Master._

_He let me take her place._

_Master needs me, and I am here to serve him, so that she can live and be safe._

_My life means nothing outside of pleasing Master, so that she can be safe._

_As long as Master loves me, she will be safe._

_If I love Master, she will be safe._

_That’s all that matters._

_As long as she’s safe._

As his mind crumbled, he began to wail a long, primitive cry.  Words followed...

 

_"MASTER!  Save me!  Help me, please!  Master....I...I...love you! I’ve done everything you’ve asked of me!  Please, have mercy and let me die!"_

_"I....I....can't do this anymore!  Just let me die, please!  Oh, God...please take me away from here!  I...c-can't....please...keep...Eleanora...safe....God, please!"_

Yoosung was sobbing, delirious, his body broken, his mind shattered like bullet-pierced glass, shards scattering all around him.

Surprised, Master opened the cage and stepped inside.  It wasn’t all that uncommon to find Yoosung a blubbering mess, but today he seemed a bit more unhinged than usual.  He then noticed that Yoosung seemed extremely pale. 

“Hey.  What’s going on with you?”  He asked, with an edge of panic rising in his voice.  Reaching down, he pressed the back of his hand against Yoosung’s forehead, which was damp with sweat, despite the near-freezing temperatures in the room.  He drew his hand back as quickly as if he had just touched a hot stove.  Yoosung was burning up with fever.

“Are you getting sick?   _Son of a bitch!_  What am I going to do with you?  We’re almost out of medical supplies, and there’s not enough money to buy more.  Why the fuck do you have to be so high-maintenance?” 

Panic gripped Master’s mind—along with a cascade of other feelings. 

Rage  _(How could he betray me and get sick like this!)_...

Anger  _(How could I let him get sick...he's my pet and my responsibility!)_ …

Fear  _(what if he dies?  I can’t live without him!)_. 

All of these emotions raced around his mind, but there could be only one winner by default….and it was fiery, white-hot rage. 

In his sick, twisted, fractured mind, it was as if Yoosung had gotten sick with the sole purpose of escaping him through his own death.  

Master felt like Yoosung had committed the ultimate betrayal.   _After all he had done for the boy!_   

Within seconds, Master had Yoosung strung up from the ceiling hook.  He then ran the cables from the electric control box, and soon had the full count of leads clamped into Yoosung’s flesh...from his head to his feet. 

“Dance for me, dog!”  Master yelled, throwing the switch.  Yoosung’s body bucked and twisted on the chain as the electricity flowed through him.  Every muscle in his body clenched hard, and it felt like they might rip themselves to shreds under their own vicious contractions.  His eyes burned, every part of him burned.  He felt like he was being cooked from the inside.  He couldn’t scream; his jaw clamped shut, biting down on his tongue, which also burned with electric current.  It tasted sour. The only sound he was capable of making was a throaty “Ggghh…gggghh….ggghggghh…ghhhh”, as his body twitched and convulsed violently.  After several seconds, the switch was thrown again, and Yoosung’s body went limp, twitching slightly every few seconds.  His breaths came in shallow gasps.  The sharp odor of burned flesh singed the air.

Surprisingly, he had managed to stay conscious through it all.  Unknown approached him, his eyes cold and dark.

“If you are going to leave me anyway, I’m going to take everything I can from you before you can go.” 

Yoosung, still trembling from the after-effects of the electricity stared blankly at Master.  He was still swimming in blinding waves of pain, but he no longer seemed to be capable of processing emotion.  Struggling to focus, he made eye contact, but communicated nothing else.  His face betrayed nothing but indifference. Then, something happened that had not happened for the entire seven months.  Yoosung  _smiled_  at Unknown.  Not his normal, genuine, happy smile, but a smile of ...blankness....delirium....insanity.  Soon, a crazed giggle accompanied the creepy smile.  Master stared in bewilderment as the giggle grew into full-blown, maniacal laughter from the feverish boy who had finally cracked.

“Do what you want—anything you do to me now will only speed up my death.  And, then you won’t control me anymore.  Either way, I win!” The words did not seem to be his own, and the voice didn’t sound quite human.  More hysterical laughter echoed off of the cellar walls.

The blood drained from Master’s face.  He staggered backward, not sure what to think. 

This wasn’t  _his_  Yoosung.  Was he possessed?

This unexpected behavior made Master fearful.  For the first time, he was actually, truly afraid for Yoosung.  Something felt very, very wrong here.

Grabbing his coat and boots, he left Yoosung hanging where he was, while he hurried to his quarters at the farmhouse. 

Master’s head was spinning with conflicting thoughts.  He knew that he should have ended this long before now.  It was almost too late to get out before winter arrived in full force.  There was no way he could save Yoosung, and now it seemed that his mind was finally gone.  

At the same time, he couldn’t bring himself to kill him, or leave him alone to freeze or starve to death.

He knew it was risky, but he needed to attempt to contact the outside world.  The fastest and most secure way to do this was to attempt to hijack Mint Eye’s servers as a sort of proxy.  He hoped that he could get through quickly enough that his tracks won’t be traced. 

He needed to get help for Yoosung.  He realized with a streak of terror that he could actually lose this boy.   _This boy…_ that he cared about. 

Why was he feeling this way?  He hated himself for being in such turmoil over what should be a simple, cut-and-dry thing.

He had threatened death many, times, but stayed his hand because he felt like that’s what Yoosung actually wanted.  Now, he desperately wanted to keep Yoosung alive, but for a very different reason:  He couldn’t imagine living without him. 

When did he allow  _this boy_  into his heart?  How was this even possible?

It proved quite difficult to get a signal through the thick snowfall in the mountains.  He had tried several secure methods without success before deciding, in desperation, to take a risk and attempt to connect through less-secure means.  His gambit worked, and he was finally able to get a connection.   _Surely, at this hour, nobody is watching,_  he thought.  He looked at the clock.  It was 2:17 in the morning.  Surely nobody will be watching at this hour.

Within seconds, Eleanora was sitting bolt upright in her apartment, nearly 200 miles away, her computer alerting her of the trace signal that had just fallen right into her lap....a Christmas miracle. 

* * *

 


	6. By Daylight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's in the earliest hours of Christmas morning. Eleanora has just woken from a clairvoyant dream. She senses that time is quickly running out for Yoosung. Rather than waste precious time trying to convince others to take action, she decides to act on her own. Armed with her GPS, a few supplies, and a car that was gifted to her by Seven (meaning, it's fast), Eleanora heads into the mountains to find her Yoosung and save him--before it's too late.

**Chapter 6:  By Daylight**

Day 231--December 25th

* * *

 

5:48am

 

_"I....I....can't do this anymore!  Just let me die, please!  Oh, God...please take me away from here!  I...c-can't....please...keep...Eleanora...safe....God, please!"_

Eleanora tumbled from her bed, trembling, drenched in sweat, with the anguished words still echoing in her ears.  She had seen Yoosung, and heard his desperate cry for help.  She felt an overwhelming urgency….that he needed her, fast.  She felt like his life was ebbing away. 

She had to go to the coordinates she had found.

 _Now_. 

There was no time to contact Seven or Jumin or anyone else and try to convince them or get their approval. 

 _It was up to her..._   _She had to try._

He was slipping away, and she had to get to him before it was too late. 

Eleanora packed her bags quickly, but carefully.  In one, she packed her personal effects:  a change of clothes, and various personal items.  In another, she packed a blanket, some first aid supplies, a flashlight, a knife, and a gun.  She packed anything she thought might come in handy as she struck out on her own to rescue Yoosung. 

“Hold on, baby.  I’m on my way,” she breathed under her breath as she loaded the supplies into the back of the car that Seven had given her.  It was small, but nice…loaded with premium features, and—of course, being one of Seven’s cars—capable of going extremely fast. 

 _“This isn’t my fastest car, but it is really fast, so promise me you won’t drive it like a bat out of hell and get yourself killed, okie?”_   Seven had warned her when he gave it to her as a means of independently getting around town from Rika’s … _her_  apartment. 

Following the GPS coordinates given on the trace she found a few hours earlier, she set out for a long drive into the rural mountainous region east of the city.  According to Google Maps, it would be just over a four hour drive through some rough terrain—especially once she arrived in the higher elevations, where heavy snow had just been falling.

It was the middle of the night, in the earliest hours of Christmas morning, so the highway was almost completely deserted.  Against Seven’s cautions, she stretched the car’s legs, and comfortably completed most of the trip in just over three hours.  As the sun began to bring a pinkish tint to the skies over the river valley to the east, she was arriving in the vicinity of the GPS coordinates from the trace.

 

* * *

 

10:26am

 

As the sun finally began peeking over the eastern horizon, a gorgeous explosion of colors burst over the valley.  The pink sunlight illuminated the mountains in a glorious violet mist—not unlike the color of her sweetheart’s beautiful eyes.  The snow-covered ground became alight with thousands of points of sparkle, like finely-ground diamonds.  She was getting close to the area, but the smaller roads she needed to travel were not mapped, making it increasingly difficult to find her way.

As she made her way further into the mountainous wilderness, Eleanora contemplated the task that lie ahead of her.  She was well aware of the dangers she was walking into.  She knew that she could be killed, or worse, get Yoosung killed.  She had to be careful of how she surveyed and planned her actions once she got there.  She already knew that this was an old, abandoned farm property with three buildings—a house, a barn, and a small outbuilding, which was probably a shed. 

She also knew from certain elements of the trace she intercepted that it most likely came from an underground source—which would explain why nothing had been found in previous searches of the place.  She almost missed this particular piece of information, as it was an extremely subtle marker on the trace codes and was only noticed after multiple analyses of the trace.  When she showed it to Seven, he dismissed it as “background clutter” on the trace.

As impatient as she tended to be, she knew that she would have to be very cautious and methodical in her approach.  One move in haste, and it would be over.   _Failure was simply not an option._

* * *

2:29pm 

 

The recent snowfall had made many of the remote roads impassable.  Very few, if any, permanent residents lived in this area during the winter months, so the roads were completely untouched; many were completely hidden under thick snowdrifts.  Eleanora was forced to get out and clear the roads by hand at several points, consuming precious time.  After several agonizing hours of exhausting effort, she finally arrived at the outer fence line of the farm.  The fence around the property was all but gone, lost to time and neglect.  Only a line of rocks and the occasional random, worn fencepost gave any indication that a fence had ever been there.  She parked the car behind a grove of evergreen trees, and covered it with a large tarp to keep away snow and ice that could slow a quick getaway. 

Hopping the remains of the fence, she sprinted across the field—most likely used to house goats or dairy cows in another lifetime—and approached the buildings at the farm site.  She examined the house first.  It was very run down, but obviously built well.  There were no obvious signs of anyone living there, but she knew better than to go inside before completing a more complete investigation.  The barn was in much worse shape, with parts of the roof fallen in, broken windows, and boards fallen out of the walls. 

The shed, however, seemed to be a newer construction than either of the two other buildings.  It was sturdy and in good shape.  And, it had a lock on the door.  Eleanora thought this was odd, as the other two buildings were clearly open and free for anyone to walk in.   _What’s in that shed?_ Eleanora thought, butterflies rising in her stomach.   _Did the search parties check inside?_  

Hiding in a small alcove behind the shed—most likely used to store firewood—Eleanora shed her bulky winter parka.  She then reached into her equipment bag and pulled out her “Mission: Impossible” gear—a pair of thick, but close-fitting black insulated pants and thick, black sweater, and a ski mask to cover her face and head.  Working in the high-altitude cold, it was important that she wear clothes that were lightweight and that allowed for free movement, but were also insulated and warm.  It was a nice plus that the outfit gave her the appearance of a badass secret agent.  There was just enough bulk to her outfit to obscure her body shape, which made her gender difficult to determine.  This was an important detail she had included in her plan; she did not want to risk any potential for complications that might arise from her identity being discovered.  The fewer details she gave away, the better—at least for the time being.  Pulling the mask into place, she then pulled her long brown hair into a ponytail, and tucked it into the back of her sweater.

Both Unknown and Yoosung knew what her voice sounded like, so it was important that she do something to disguise it.  During the long drive, she had practiced her go-to theatrical voice—a rich, low voice with a thick accent.  She had learned several fake voices in high school drama club, and this one was her favorite.  She had used a version of it in her award-winning performance as Beatrice in  _Much Ado about Nothing_.  With some practice, she had managed to tweak it such that it sounded like it could be male or female.  The more she could obscure her real identity, the better.

 

* * *

 

 3:15pm

 

Surveying the area once more, she felt pretty confident that the shed was the access point for the underground area, but she couldn’t be too sure until she got closer.  Moving quickly and stealthily, she rounded the perimeter of the farm.  A distant sound of a squeaky door froze her in her tracks.  Diving into a nearby overgrown shrub that was once part of the farm’s landscaping, she watched as a young man with whitish hair leave from the backdoor of the farm house. 

Unknown was wearing a long, black coat, and was glancing around frantically as he made his way from the house to the shed.  His heavy boots crunched in the snow with each step.  He paused at the door, fishing out a key from his pocket.  He dropped it into the snow.  Cursing and beating both fists into the sides of his head, he fished the key from the snowdrift.  He then opened the padlock, removed it, and entered the shed.  The door swung shut behind him, and she could hear the padlock engage with a soft “click” from inside. 

 _So, that’s it_.  She whispered to herself.  Her heart was racing.   _This is it, He’s got to be in there somewhere, and that guy is the one who has him_.  She wondered how on earth this was missed by the so-called “expert” search and rescue teams who had supposedly combed the area months ago.

Reaching into her pocket, she felt the cold, hard steel of her gun.   _This guy has no idea I’m here.  I could put a bullet in his brainpan and be done with it._   She gripped the gun.  She had never been completely comfortable with handling guns, but she could be a decent shot if the situation ever required it. 

 _But…What if there is someone else here?  It’s not worth the risk._   Until she knew if she was outnumbered, staying under the radar is the best way to go for now.  Besides, the recent heavy snowfall on the nearby peaks raised the very real concern of avalanche in the event of any loud noise or vibration.  Firing the gun could serve only to ensure that everyone dies.

No, the gun is for an extreme last resort.

 

* * *

3:30pm

 

Once the coast was clear, she resumed her close, covert examination of the property.  As she approached the barn, she heard a distant, stifled scream, barely perceptible and only audible because of the completely silent winter landscape.  Her stomach jumped into her throat as she heard the screaming continue—a desperate, pleading wail:   _“PLEASE, MASTER!  I’M SORRY FOR WHAT I SAID!  PLEASE!  I’LL DO ANYTHING YOU WANT!  PLEASE STOP!”_

Her heart imploded.  She recognized his voice.

_Yoosung???_

_Oh God._

_My sweetheart...what do I do?  Where is he?_ Tears threatened as panicked thoughts swarmed her brain, clouding her thoughts and threatening to consume her.  Eleanora managed to shove them down.  This was no time for panic.

 _Anger is my friend_ …she whispered to herself, tempering her nerve with white hot rage.  Her senses sharpened, and her mind cleared as she refocused her energy to the task at hand.  

Another voice cut through the silent, cold air:  “HOW DARE YOU MAKE ME CARE FOR YOU!  YOU INFECT ME LIKE A DISEASE!   _YOU WILL NOT CONTROL ME_ —NOT NOW, NOT EVER!  WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?  THIS ENDS, NOW.  IT’S OVER.  DO YOU HEAR ME, BOY?”

The tirade was quickly followed by another series of screams. 

Eleanora was rattled, but she took a deep breath and continued her search.

Looking around, she noticed that a portion of the barn’s lower wall along the north side was made of stone instead of the broad wooden planks that most of the barn is built from.  In this section of wall made from stone, a small window, covered with rusty, iron bars, sat near the ground, almost completely obscured by dead grass, leaves and melting snow.  Crouching down on her belly and scooping away the snow, Eleanora moved close to the window and peered inside. 

It was some kind of cellar, built directly under the old barn of stone, brick and concrete.  While the ground level portions of the barn were dilapidated and falling down, this portion was sturdy masonry and perfectly sound.  Very likely, this was an old underground creamery.  These were built in the days before refrigeration, because underground cellars would maintain a consistent cool temperature year-round that would keep dairy products fresh. 

She pulled some of the tangled dead grass and leaves from the bars covering the window, and used her sleeve to clear some of the dirt from the glass.  Peering through the window again, she barely was able to make out a figure.  There was someone in the dim room below.  Eyes strained to see…a blonde boy, hands bound over his head, suspended from the ceiling. 

_It was Yoosung._

She had finally found him.

* * *

 


	7. Breaking the Spell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eleanora has found Yoosung, but he's in bad shape. All alone, and without the ability to call for help, she must carefully plan the best strategy for getting to him, freeing him, and escaping. Simple enough, right? 
> 
> No...?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH....(at least, it's strongly implied...)

**Chapter 7: Breaking the Spell**

Day 231--December 25th

* * *

 

3:35pm

 

Yanking off her ski mask, Eleanora vomited in the nearby snowy grass. She heaved until her gut was sore. 

She had just seen her love, her heart, her soul, strung up by his wrists by a chain, dangling on his toes, as the white-haired guy repeatedly flogged him with a whip. He also held a knife in his hand, and the evidence of its use was apparent in the multiple bleeding cuts on Yoosung's chest and back.  Streaks of blood crisscrossed his skin; soaking into the fabric of his tattered jeans, which were ripped at the knees.  The white-haired guy laughed cruelly, grabbed a bucket of water, and threw it on Yoosung, causing him to shriek in shock, and his body to convulse wildly.  He screamed again, making Eleanora’s blood curdle.

No--that wasn’t water.  The unmistakable odor that wafted up to her nostrils confirmed that it was actually rubbing alcohol.  Yoosung shuddered, whimpering and sobbing as the cold, clear, acerbic liquid bit into his raw, broken skin with the fury of a thousand white-hot needles.  With a gasp and a shudder, his head swung forward and his body went limp as he fainted, his senses overloaded.

 _“Again?!_   ...fucking pathetic...” sneered his tormentor, “I’d have thought...he’d have toughened up at least....  ...getting.... fucking old.  ....just about done...”  Eleanora couldn’t quite hear the voice, but she pieced together bits and pieces of what he was saying by reading his lips and expression.  He carefully cleans and puts away his equipment, then picks up his coat. 

 _Is he about to leave?_   The madman tossed his coat back down again, and walks over to his helpless prisoner. 

Grasping a handful of his blond hair—now noticeably longer, duller and faded in color, with several inches of his natural brown color grown in at the roots—he yanks his head roughly back to look at Yoosung’s face.  His eyes were closed, and his face wore an expression far too relaxed for what was just done to him.  Releasing the grip on Yoosung’s hair, causing his head to drop lifelessly onto his chest, the madman sighed loudly.  “Pathetic fucking weakling,” he muttered, as he returned to his coat, put it on, and headed for the door. 

Eleanora slipped silently around the corner of the barn, and waited.  Her breath hung close in the air, and she willed herself to be completely still.  Silence—the kind of silence that is so oppressive that one can hear the roar of blood rushing through the tiniest capillaries in the ears—pervaded Eleanora’s senses as she sat perfectly still.

Soon, Eleanora heard the click of the padlock, the creaking of the opening shed door, the door swinging shut, and the lock being replaced.  The madman walked away, muttering something angrily, but Eleanora couldn’t decipher it or read his lips because he was walking away from her position. 

He disappeared into the farmhouse, the back door slamming shut behind him.  Eleanora was beginning to feel like this guy was a lone wolf, but she still wasn’t quite confident enough to tip her hand and make her presence known just yet…despite her desperate, urgent impatience.

 

* * *

 3:41pm 

 

It was getting late in the afternoon; the sun was already beginning to hide behind the high mountains to the west.  It would be getting dark in the next hour.  Time was growing very short to move by the safety of daylight. 

Eleanora wondered how long Unknown would be gone, and was briefly tempted to break the lock on the shed and get inside.  Despite her overwhelming urge to get in there as quickly as possible, she knew she mustn’t act in haste, which could have disastrous consequences.

Silently as a cat, she dashed back over to the window, and looked down at her sweetheart.  He was still hanging, unconscious, from the chain.  Completely helpless.  Looking closely, she saw how frail and thin he was.  He was covered in wounds—cuts, burns, lashes, and sores.  His right shoulder appeared to be dislocated, causing him to hang in an odd, and very painful looking angle.  His left leg wore a crude splint, but there was an unnatural deformation below the knee, suggesting that it was badly broken. 

She had tried to prepare herself for whatever she might find, but there was no way she could have been prepared to see her precious Yoosung so utterly shattered. 

 _My poor, sweet angel,_  she thought as her throat tightened. 

_He would not have suffered like this if it weren't for me._

Once again, a sick feeling of helplessness washed over her like a tidal wave. 

 _What do I do?_   She thought frantically. 

_I have to get to him, now._

Common sense chimed in:  ** _NO._** _I have to plan this carefully—if I act impulsively and mess this up, neither of us will have a chance._

_Nobody else believes he is here._

_Nobody else even knows that_ I’m _here!_

Eleanora grabbed her phone, her quaking fingers fumbling the buttons as she tried to power it on.  Once the screen came to life, she tried to open the RFA messaging app.  It got stuck on the loading screen, and then a box popped up:  “No Connection, Try again later” Next, she tried calling each member of the RFA.  Of course, with no signal, the calls couldn’t go through. 

Closing her eyes, Eleanora took a deep breath. She was on her own.  Yoosung’s life was in her hands. 

He had sacrificed himself to protect her….now it was her turn to protect him at all costs—to save him—the boy she loved with every fiber of her existence. 

 

* * *

3:47pm

 

Presently, she heard the now-familiar creaking of the farmhouse door.  The white-haired madman emerged with a large, black duffel bag, and walked quickly to the shed.  Setting the bag on the ground, he once again fumbled with the key, removed the lock, opened the door, and disappeared inside with his bag. 

He appeared to be in a hurry, and he seemed to be having a rather heated argument with himself.

Eleanora, listening carefully from her perch behind the barn and next to the window, noticed that she did not hear the click of the lock from inside the door after it closed.  

 _If he left that door unlocked, this could be my chance to get inside, s_ he thought to herself.

Eleanora paused by the window and waited for him to enter the room.  Sure enough, the large metal door opened, and Unknown appeared with the black duffel. 

Yoosung appeared to still be unconscious.  The man set the bag on the floor by the table, reached into his pocket, and pulled out a vial of what looked like a light-colored, powdery substance.  For a moment, he held the bottle in his hand, stared at Yoosung, and heaved a big sigh.  Why was he looking at him like that? 

Opening the tiny bottle, he held it under Yoosung’s nose…smelling salts, Eleanora suspected.  Yoosung’s head jerked away from the vial, but the man followed his nose with it.  Yoosung flinched and jerked away again…..and again……and then began coughing uncontrollably as he started to wake up. 

Slowly lifting his head, he seemed dazed as he attempted to stand on the toes of his working leg.  His face contorted in pain, but he remained alert and was watching his captor closely as he rummaged through the bag again.  Yoosung seemed to say something, but since he barely moved his lips, Eleanora could not read them.

It seemed like the madman was distracted, so Eleanora made her move.  For better or worse, it was time to get this show on the road.  There was no more time to wait.  She was certain enough now that this guy was by himself, and she prayed that she would be able to take him down on her own.

She dashed for the shed door, which was, indeed, unlocked, and she ducked inside.  The inside of the shed was dark, save for the light that came through a small window opposite of the door.  The shed was largely absent of anything interesting, but there appeared to be a small trap door in the floor.  Placing her ear against the metal door, Eleanora listened for any activity.  Silence.  She slowly lifted the door open, revealing a ladder that went down into darkness, with a small light at the bottom.  She quickly moved down this ladder, and found herself at the end of a short hallway.  Various old crockery and rusted metal cans lined the passageway.  Everything was coated with years of dust and cobwebs.

A large metal door stood imposingly at the other end of the passage.  Silently approaching it, Eleanora surveyed the door.  It seemed extremely old and rusty, and the lock didn’t appear to be anything sophisticated.  In fact, the lock didn’t seem to be engaged.  There was a small window near the top of the door. 

Taking a small mirrored compact from her pocket, she positioned herself under the window with her back against the door.  She then held the mirror above her head, aiming the reflection downward.  Using the mirror like this to minimize her chance of being detected, she peered into the cellar.

The madman was sitting at the table, drinking something from a can, and still appearing to be agitated.  Yoosung still hung from the chain, and was staring forlornly at the man, who seemed to be savoring his drink— _was it beer?_

The white-haired man quickly downed the can of beer.  Then, he opened another one.  He still seemed to be arguing with himself, and occasionally spoke to Yoosung, who gave quiet, short answers. 

Eleanora wished she could hear what they were saying, but she could only catch a word here and there through lip reading…which was not one of her best skills.

What was he fiddling with?  It was so hard to see much through a tiny mirror looking through a tiny window, but she could tell he was toying with something in his hands.  Finally, he laid the object down on the table, and Eleanora saw what it was. 

It was a gun _._

 _Oh God._  

That realization was followed quickly by another one:  The huge, black duffle bag on the floor?  It was a body bag _._    _Oh God...  Was he getting ready to kill Yoosung?_   His self-dialogue seemed to indicate that he was torn on whether to do it. 

Yoosung was just quietly watching.  He occasionally shifted his weight to keep from pulling on his wrists, but otherwise, his face held an odd, indifferent expression.  As if he was resigned to his fate and was just waiting to get it over with.

The white-haired guy continued to intently discuss the pros and cons of killing his prisoner.  From what pieces she could pick up, it seemed that Unknown was thinking of leaving and starting a new life, but was torn on what to do with Yoosung.  If they both stayed on the mountain, they would both die; they didn’t have the resources to make it through a harsh mountain winter.  He didn’t seem to want to leave Yoosung, but he couldn’t take him along in his current condition.  He was considering whether to end him quickly with a bullet, or to simply leave him to die in the cellar. 

Then, a miracle happened.  In the midst of white-hair guy’s debate with himself, he yawned.  A few minutes later, he began to nod off.  Yoosung, still watching him with a sad, vacant look on his face, yawned too.  He winced, then shifted his weight once again.  He looked so miserable, like someone who was long past the point of giving up.

Unknown nodded off again, nearly falling out of his chair. 

Yawning again, he slowly stood up, stretched, and looked down at the gun on the table.  He shook his head, as if trying to clear out unwanted thoughts.

 

* * *

4:00pm

 

“I’m going to take a nap.  I don’t have to decide anything right this minute.  I’ll be back later.”  With slow, slightly stumbling steps, Unknown walked towards the door.

 _“Oh, shit…”_  Eleanora panicked, almost dropping the mirror in her hand.  Dashing to the far end of the corridor, she crouched behind some wooden barrels in the shadows.  Holding her breath and sitting absolutely still, she watched as Unknown ascended the ladder, closed the trap door behind himself, and exited the shed. 

Waiting a few minutes to make sure he was gone, Eleanora made her way back down the corridor to the big metal door.  The bolt was severely rusted.  Eleanora grasped it, and pulled.  With a sharp, metallic crack, the bolt came loose—broke off in her hand, actually—and the door swung open. 

Despite her efforts to keep quiet as she entered the room, the door creaked loudly as she pushed past it, then swung shut behind her with a loud  _bang_. 

The sound caused Yoosung to instinctively startle, then tense up.  He was facing away from her, but she could hear his rapid, jagged breaths as he shivered violently.

Slowly, she approached, circling around to face him.

He froze when he realized that the person who entered the room was not Master.

“…W-who are you?” he asked timidly, a mixture of fear and bewilderment etched across his tearstained face.

Eleanora’s mind reeled as a series of intense emotions overwhelmed her. 

After all of this time, she had finally found him.  Her eyes burned as tears threatened, and she felt momentarily paralyzed as she fought the incredible urge to reveal her identity, run to him, take him into her arms, and…

 _…Stop it, stop it, stop it!!!_   Eleanora angrily told herself. 

_Do not blow your cover!  Not now, not yet!_

She clenched her fists, shaking her head almost imperceptibly as she willed herself to clear her head and stay in character. 

Mustering her best false voice, despite the lump sitting in her throat, Eleanora responded to Yoosung’s question, “Who I am doesn’t matter right now.  What matters is that I’m here to rescue you.  Everything else can be explained later.”

She stepped toward him, examining the chain and trying to figure out the best way to free him from it.  “I'm pretty sure I can get you down from there, but I might need….”

She was cut off by Yoosung’s sudden interjection. “B-but…I-I can’t…I can’t leave this place.”

Eleanora stopped in her tracks, taken aback by his response. 

_Why would he say this?_

She took another step, so that she stood directly in front of him.  Looking up into his face, she insisted, “ _Yes, you can_.  You have to.  You’ll die if you stay here.  Why do you think you can’t leave?” 

“He’ll hurt the girl I love if I leave…I have to stay here to protect her.” his voice trembled as he explained.

Eleanora instantly felt her chest tighten at his declaration—once again—that he willingly chose his own suffering and imminent death for her sake.  Through sheer willpower, she once again shoved down the lump forming in her throat. 

“She must be pretty special to you if you’d rather stay here than risk any harm coming to her…”

“She is.  Her name is Eleanora, and she’s worth all of this.  Worth dying for.”

Eleanora cleared her throat, desperately trying to keep her voice from breaking.  “I am sure she’s missing you something terrible.”

“I miss her too,” he said quietly.

“What if I can  _guarantee_  you that she will be safe, if you’ll come with me right now?”

Yoosung shook his head, slowly lowering his gaze to the ground.  “It’s too late for me.  Please, leave me here.  If you know Eleanora or if you see her, please tell her I love her, and that I want her to move on with her life and find happiness,” a single tear slid down his cheek as he spoke. "...and tell her that it was my greatest honor to make this sacrifice for her."

_Oh..._

_My sweet...precious...angel._

Eleanora's vision blurred with hot, stinging tears.  Damn, this was getting  _really_  hard. 

Eleanora bit her bottom lip behind her ski mask, desperately trying to keep her emotions in check.

A small ripple of panic bubbled up in the pit of her stomach as she realized that this was not going to be as simple as she thought.

“What’s it going to take to convince you to come with me?” she said, redoubling her efforts to maintain her acting voice, which had begun to waver.

“I’m sorry.  I just…I can’t.  If I leave now, everything I’ve been through so far will be for nothing.  I have to protect Eleanora.”  As he spoke, his words grew more and more emphatic.

Eleanora’s voice rose as her trepidation increased.  Fear threatened every ounce of her resolve.  “ _What are you talking about,_  Yoosung?” she demanded.  Yoosung’s head lifted and his eyes widened when he heard his own name for the first time in months.  Eleanora continued, “ _You were kidnapped by a crazed madman_.  Thousands of people have busted their asses over the last seven months looking for you.  I’ve finally found you, and you’re telling me that you ‘ _can’t leave’_?  This guy has you brainwashed.   Please, you have to snap out of it, or else… _or else_ ….” she faltered, her words lost in the dizzying swirl of panicked frustration that inundated her mind.

Eleanora took a deep breath, calming herself down a bit, before continuing, “Listen to me, sweetie…this guy… _he can’t hurt Eleanora_ , and I’ll tell you why:  He is an outcast and a fugitive...on the run, hiding in the mountains, with  _no_  resources or financial support available to him whatsoever.  Mint Eye has all but collapsed, and he is totally on his own.  He doesn’t have the capability to get through the winter.  If he can’t even take care of  _himself_ , how on earth could he possibly be able to do anything to Eleanora or anyone else?  Don't you see?  He's controlling you with fear, because that's the only card he has left to play.  Please,  _please_  believe me...and come with me.   _I have to get you out of here.”_

Having to use ‘tough love’ talk on him when she’d only just found him broke her heart, but she needed him to snap out of it and cooperate, or all of this would have been for naught.

 _“You do want to see her…right?”_  she said softly, her voice almost strangling on the tears she was desperately trying to hide.

“Yes... _I’d give anything_ …” His voice broke into a small sob as he answered her.

At the risk of her identity being found out, Eleanora stepped in close, tilting her head to look Yoosung straight in the eyes.  It took every ounce of willpower to keep her voice stable.  “Yoosung, I  _promise_  you this:  Eleanora is safe, and she’s waiting for you right now.  She needs you… _she needs you_  to come home to her.  All you have to do is be brave and come with me, okay?”

Yoosung didn’t answer verbally, but the expression on his face shifted as he listened to Eleanora's words.  All of a sudden, hope flickered in his eyes like the tiniest of candle flames.  It created a sensation in his heart that he had long forgotten.  He suddenly felt a renewed strength.

Eleanora held out her arms.  “Just help me get you down from that chain.  Can you lift yourself up a bit with your good leg?”

Yoosung nodded, “I-I think so.”  Eleanora wrapped her arms around him to steady him as he shifted his weight and slowly pushed himself upward with the toes of his uninjured leg.  Once there was enough slack, Eleanora carefully pulled the clip holding his wrist cuffs together over the tip of the hook, freeing him from the chain.  His arms, still bound at the wrists, fell around Eleanora's neck.  

Without the support of the chain, Yoosung immediately collapsed.  Together, they sank to the floor, Eleanora carefully trying to ease his fall to avoid jostling his injuries.  A pained grimace etched into his face as he moaned softly. 

“I’m sorry, I tried to keep you from falling too hard,” Eleanora said, fighting the urge to hold him in a way that would betray her real identity.  Reaching into her supply bag, she grabbed a wool blanket and pulled it around Yoosung’s shoulders to protect him from the cold.

“I-I’m okay…I think…” his thought was disrupted by the heart-stopping sound of yet another slam of the metal door.

 

* * *

 

4:20pm

 

“ _What_  the actual FUCK?”  Unknown’s voice boomed through the cellar.  Eleanora felt every muscle in Yoosung’s body go rigid. 

“Oh no, oh no, no, no….” he whispered frantically, his body trembling as he curled into the fetal position.  Eleanora couldn’t help it any longer—she wrapped her arms around him protectively, placing one hand against his head, gently drawing him close to her.

“Shhh….It’s okay, sweetie.  I’ve got you,” she said softly into his ear.

“ _No...no…what have I done…I’m so scared…”_ Yoosung stammered softly into her shirt.  It was gut-wrenching to see him so terrified.

“You’re okay, baby.” Eleanora whispered near Yoosung’s ear, his face nuzzled into her neck as if he were trying to hide.  She realized that she needed to choose her words more carefully if she wanted to avoid giving herself away.

Unknown stood in front of them, staring down at them with a look that could shatter glass.

“Who are you, and what are you doing here?” he growled at the mysterious figure dressed all in black, who was crouching on the floor holding and comforting his plaything—all wrapped up in a blanket.

“Who, me?  Why, I’m just here to pick up Yoosung.  He’s had a  _lovely_  stay in your little dungeon, but he’s ready to go home now,” Eleanora deadpanned, with perhaps a little too much sarcasm and bravado.

Her arms were still wrapped protectively around Yoosung, who was shaking violently in terror, his eyes fixed on “Master”. 

“Master, I told him to leave me alone.  I told him you’d be angry.  I didn’t want to make you angry.”  His last words dissolved into sobs.    _“Please don’t punish me again!”_   He shook uncontrollably as he cried out in despair. 

Eleanora’s heart shattered into pieces, as she continued to cradle her broken angel, who still had no idea who she really was.  Once again, her hand instinctively moving to the side of his head, gently stroking the faded blonde hair that fell almost to his shoulders.

 _Be strong, Eleanora,_  she thought to herself,  _he needs you to be strong for him now, more than ever, or it's all over._

“You. Whoever you are.  Leave him alone.  He’s mine, and you can’t have him.”  Unknown spoke with a slight slur.  He took a couple of steps forward, the persisting influence of alcohol causing him to stumble slightly.

“Umm _… **no**._   He is most definitely  _not_  yours... ** _you sick fuck_** _.”_   Her voice grew louder and darker as thick, seething rage bubbled up inside her. 

Anger, Eleanora’s old friend, was showing up to save the day.  It collected all the pieces of her broken heart and forged them together into a red-hot ball of steel.  Her mind became clear and focused as a diamond laser. 

_She was **not**  going to take this shit. _

To Yoosung, she gently but firmly said, “Come on, sweetie.  Get up.  It’s time to get out of here.  I’ll help you…”

White-haired freak scowled, rage slowly boiling over. 

“Oh, that’s it,” he snarled.  He spun around, grabbing for something on the table behind him.  He paused when he realized that the item was not there.

“Looking for this?”  Eleanora held the gun in her hands, then deftly unloaded it, allowing the rounds to drop harmlessly to the concrete floor.  Unknown’s jaw dropped as he turned as white as a linen sheet on grandma’s clothesline.  After a moment, he spoke in a voice that was perfectly steady and calm…and perfectly terrifying.

“So,  _Yoosung_.  Is this how it’s going to be?  After all I’ve done for you to keep your girl safe, after all I’ve done to take care of you…you’re just going to let this…interloper…steal you away from me?   _You’re going to break your word and renege on our deal?”_   He chose his words carefully, calling Yoosung by his name for the first time in seven months.  This was done on purpose, and it provided the intended result: a visceral reaction in the one he was addressing.

 _“NO!”_  Yoosung cried loudly, trying to push Eleanora away from him.  “ _Please_ , I have to stay here!  For Eleanora!  She needs me to stay here with Master!  Don’t you understand?  PLEASE  _LEAVE ME ALONE!”_   he wailed, as sobs once again consumed him.

“See?  He loves his Master, and he doesn’t want to leave!”  The madman triumphantly declared.  He had moved to the kitchen counter, and was stirring a drink in a mug…probably instant coffee.  He quickly gulped down the black liquid, not once removing his brilliantly green eyes from Eleanora.

 ** _“Bullshit!"_** Eleanora shouted, "he does  _not_  love you, and he sure as hell doesn’t want to stay in this shit-hole with you.  You’ve got him brainwashed!” Eleanora growled.  She could feel her intensifying pulse raging in her own ears. 

With one last comforting stroke of his hair, Eleanora gently released her grasp on Yoosung, who continued to lie in the fetal position on the floor, crying. 

She stood up; placing herself protectively between Yoosung and the madman he was referring to as “Master”. 

“Listen to me very,  _very_  carefully, because I’m only going to explain this once.” she said in closely-clipped words, with carefully controlled rage seething like liquid fire in her veins.  “I am here to take Yoosung away from this place, and that is precisely what I am going to do.  He is injured, and he needs immediate medical attention.   _I will not allow you to continue to hurt him.”_ As she spoke, she slowly reached a hand into her pocket, feeling the cold steel of her gun. 

“I know that you are alone, and I know that you are cut off from money and resources. You are dangerously low on options. The way I see it, you've got two choices:  You can either allow us to leave peacefully and unhindered, or we can do this the hard way—which I  _promise_  will not end well for you.  Please choose wisely.  Believe it or not,  _I do not particularly wish to harm you..._ though I am more than capable, and you most definitely deserve it.” 

Eleanora was actually pleased at the careful restraint she managed to show in her words.  What she really wanted to do was blow the motherfucker’s face off. 

But...there was something that made her hesitate.  Pity?  Mercy?  The notion that there might be something human in this clearly broken person that could possibly be worth saving?

“I see,” the man answered coolly, after a thoughtful pause to pick at the black paint on his fingernails.  The coffee was kicking in; his gaze was bright and clear, and he did not seem nearly as affected by the alcohol anymore.

Directing his dangerous gaze to Yoosung, he spoke to him in a dark, authoritative tone:  “Do you wish to leave me?  If so, you may leave.  If you wish to stay, come to me.” 

Yoosung, his wrists and ankles still bound together, immediately started wriggling himself like an inchworm toward Unknown, groaning painfully as his injuries scraped on the rough, concrete floor.  “I…..want to……stay…..with……you…..Master” he spoke his words between his efforts to move, and his painful gasps and groans. 

A smug, sadistic smile slowly spread across the pale face with the luminescent green eyes.  He was so proud of his precious pet.  "You're my good boy, aren't you?" he gleefully cooed to the struggling, crying boy.

Feeling like she had just been punched in the stomach, Eleanora was beginning to feel more and more helpless.  Panic clouded her brain, but she somehow valiantly maintained her brave front.  If her resolve wavered now, it would be game over. 

Her mind raced as she desperately grasped at what to do.  “Yoosung, you are not in your right mind!”  Adrenaline surging through her body, she scooped Yoosung off of the floor and held him in her arms.  His body was so thin from malnourishment, that he was light enough for her to carry with some effort. 

“You are coming with me.  We’re getting you out of here and away from this crazy asshole.”

Yoosung struggled weakly against her grip, and Eleanora carefully set him down so that he was standing on his good leg, bending down to unfasten his ankle and wrist restraints so that he could attempt to walk.  “There you go.  Now, come on, sweetheart.  You can do this—I’ll help you.” she encouraged him gently, but still with a hint of urgency in her voice.  She slid her arm supportively under his, and around his back.

As he watched this person, this…intruder… treat his pet with such compassion (something he wanted to do, but never quite could) and try so hard to pull away the only person who belonged to him—something snapped in Unknown’s psyche.  All of the memories of his loved ones hurting him, leaving him, one by one, came flooding into his unstable, irrational, anguished mind. 

Suddenly, the broken madman across the room  _screamed_ —a primal, terrifying scream.  It was a scream of anguish, of defeat, of resignation, of something that was far beyond despair.  He pulled something small from his pocket, but moved so quickly that Eleanora was unable to tell what it was. 

“YOU’RE GOING TO LEAVE ME NO MATTER WHAT I DO!  JUST LIKE EVERYONE ELSE!”

“No, Master!  I won't leave!"  Yoosung croaked pitifully.  “I don’t want to go!   _Don’t hurt her…Please…_ Master…I’ll…I… I love you…Just let her live…please…” his barely coherent words faded into tears.

_“IF I CAN’T HAVE YOU, THEN NOBODY WILL HAVE YOU!”_

He suddenly lunged across the room, and tackled Yoosung, who was barely standing with Eleanora's support.  Knocking Yoosung away from Eleanora with shocking force, the pair slammed into the wall and tumbled to the ground.  One of them, it was unclear who, cried out loudly as the tangle of bodies writhed on the floor.

As if she were suddenly possessed by a demon of rage, Eleanora grabbed the white-haired madman by the back of his shirt, pulled him to his feet, and spun him around in one fluid motion. 

Then, without missing a beat—with the grace and elegance of a dancer, and with strength and skill that would make Chuck Norris beam with pride—she executed a perfect roundhouse kick to Unknown’s temple.  

The blow, landing with surgical precision, proved effective in shattering the side of his skull.  The lateral kinetic force from the blow caused the brain to be severed from its blood supply and from the brain stem, internally decapitating him.  He instantly dropped to the ground, eyes wide and mouth agape, and death only a few agonized seconds away.  

Eleanora was horrified.  She only meant to incapacitate him, not kill him.  The adrenaline coursing through her veins caused her blow to land much harder than intended.

With his final moment of consciousness, he whispered his final breath, “Yoosung, I love you…and…I’m...sorry….”  As his tortured soul drifted away, his pained scowl melted from his face, replaced with an expression of peace…perhaps for the first time in his miserable life.

Yoosung’s face twisted in despair.   His wails echoed against the stone walls, “NO!   _Master!_   _No….no…no.  He was lost, and I couldn’t save him…I tried….”_   he choked out barely intelligible words and syllables in anguished sobs, and tried to get up from where he was slumped against the wall, but cried out again when he tried to move. 

Eleanora stood in shock, her mouth agape, as she tried to process what had just happened.

Frantically, she turned her eyes to Yoosung. 

"Are you okay, Yoos..."

Her voice died as she saw it—a three-inch wound on his stomach, just above the waistline of his jeans, from which blood was flowing freely. 

Yoosung had been stabbed when “Master” tackled him.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My sincerest apologies and condolences to Saeran and his fans. He was a tormented soul, and his death was mercifully quick and painless. At least he finally finds peace...
> 
> I promise I'll make this up to him in a future work!


	8. The Golden Hour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seconds after inadvertently killing Unknown, Eleanora sees that Yoosung has just been mortally injured. She now has to move quickly to get him out of the cellar and back to the city hospital--over 100 miles away--before he bleeds to death. 
> 
> With a little help from Jaehee and Jumin, that might actually be possible.

**Chapter 8: The Golden Hour**

December 25th

* * *

 

4:25pm

 

 _"Oh my God…”_   Eleanora gasped; gripped momentarily by utter and abject horror at the gaping wound in Yoosung’s stomach, from which massive amounts of blood was hemorrhaging.  He was crying and babbling incoherently, and seemed to be going into shock.

Thoughts rapidly fired in her brain:

_He’s bleeding._

_So much blood…_

_Must stop the bleeding._

_Hospital.  So far away.  How can I…?_

_First aid.  Must stop the bleeding…_

_Apply direct pressure.  Just like in the manual when I was a Scout..._

Eleanora frantically searched for something, anything, that could be used to apply pressure to the wound.

Finding nothing immediately useful, she took off her insulated sweater, under which she wore only a white cotton t-shirt, removing her mask in the process, and releasing her long, brown hair from the confines of the sweater.  Rolling up both sweater and mask into a makeshift bandage, she pressed them firmly onto the wound, making Yoosung cry out in pain. 

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart.  I don’t mean to hurt you.  I have to put lots of pressure on it to stop the bleeding.”  She tried to keep her voice calm, but panic was apparent in her words.

The sleeves of her sweater were long and stretchy enough to wrap around Yoosung’s narrow waist, and back around to the front, where she tied them into a knot, like a belt.  She hoped that this put enough pressure on the makeshift bandage to slow the bleeding. 

She stood up, and took both of his hands into hers, trying to help him to his feet. "I know you're hurt, but I need you to try to get to your feet and help me get you out of here.  We need to get help, fast."  Her voice was shaky, but urgent.

Yoosung sat motionless, seemingly oblivious to her. 

“Hey…”  Placing her fingertips under his chin, she lifted his head to look up at her.  “Come on, sweetie.  Let me help you up, okay?” she gently encouraged. 

His eyes slowly rose to meet hers, and he saw her face for the first time.  Instantly, he froze, all signs of pain and distress suddenly melting away from his expression, leaving only a look of awe-struck wonder. 

He was transfixed. 

 _Was this…an angel?  Or…could it possibly be…_ her _?_

Eleanora's mind was racing...h _ow could she convince him to come with her?_  

“Yoosung, he’s gone now.  He can’t hurt you ever again.   _Please_ , sweetie.  Come with me, we have to get you to a hospital, right now.”  Eleanora’s words tumbled out in a rush. 

The boy she was addressing didn’t seem to hear her. 

She knelt down next to him again.  His eyes still locked onto hers, his expression unchanged.  He slowly raised a hand to her cheek, as if testing to see if she was real, or some kind of apparition. She closed her eyes briefly, exhaling sharply at the sensation of his fingertips tenderly brushing her skin.  She grasped his hand with hers, trying to redirect the focus to what she was desperately trying to tell him.

“Yoosung…baby, can you hear me?  _We have to go, now!"_   Her voice was rising in poorly concealed panic.  He was still gazing at her, mesmerized, with a heart-melting expression of pure, sweet, angelic awe on his face—which was growing more and more ashen by the minute, as he continued to lose blood. 

He was opening his mouth as if he were about to say something, when his eyes rolled back into his head.  His head lolled to the side, and he collapsed.

“YOOSUNG!”  Eleanora cried out in panic.   _“Oh God…help me!”_  

Tossing down her supply bag, and summoning up all of the adrenaline-fueled strength she could muster, she scooped up the unconscious boy and carried him out of the big metal door.  Arriving at the bottom of the ladder, she carefully laid him on the ground, and ran back into the room.  She spotted a large coil of rope hanging on the rack.   _Hopefully, that’s long enough,_  she thought.  She grabbed it, and ran back to Yoosung. 

She recalled from her days as a young Scout how to tie a rescue knot.  Reaching around him, she slipped the rope around his back and under his arms, and tied the rescue knot at his chest.  It will serve as a makeshift harness to hoist him up the ladder to the shed above. 

Climbing the ladder with the rope looped over her shoulder, she threw the loose end over a rafter in the shed’s roof structure.  Praying that the thick plank of wood was strong enough, she began to slowly and carefully pull the rope, watching carefully as her sweetheart was lifted through the vertical tunnel.   _Please, don’t let this hurt him,_  she silently pleaded as she pulled his lifeless body upward. 

Once he appeared at the trap door opening, she tied the rope to a nearby hook on the wall, to keep him from falling back into the hole while she freed him from the makeshift harness.  Taking him into her arms once again, she kicked the shed door open, and emerged into the fading afternoon sun. The icy air clawed at her skin and easily sliced through the thin cotton of her t-shirt.

The car was almost a mile away.  Although Yoosung’s frail body was just barely light enough for her to carry, she wondered briefly if it might be faster for her to lay him here while she ran for the car.  No, she thought.   _He’ll develop hypothermia fast in this cold.  Plus, I can’t risk the chance that there might still be someone else around here._

She adjusted her grip on his body, and set off running as fast as she could with the added weight.  Her arms fatigued quickly, and she had to stop every hundred yards or so to adjust her grip again, but they soon arrived at the car. 

 

* * *

 

4:33pm

 

Eleanora ripped the tarp back, and opened the passenger door.  Carefully, she eased Yoosung into the seat, moved him into a reclined position, and checked to see if the makeshift bandage was holding.  It seemed to be working; there appeared to be less blood flowing from the wound.  That, or—Eleanora worried—he was bleeding out and had less blood to lose. 

This is not the time to let fear take over, Eleanora angrily told herself, as she summoned up willpower she never knew she possessed to remain focused on her single-minded goal—to get her Yoosung to the help he desperately needed. 

Opening the trunk of the car, she retrieved an emergency blanket.  Rushing back around to the passenger door, she covered Yoosung in an attempt to warm him up.  

She only paused to plant a quick kiss on his face.  His skin was so cold and pale, and his lips were beginning to take on a bluish tint.  She shuddered to think that she might not get another chance to kiss him……but she quickly shoved that thought away.

Eleanora jumped into the driver’s seat and started the car, which was soon barreling down the narrow, snow covered roads that lead to the main highway.   Thankfully, the path of tire tracks and cleared snow that she left behind earlier helped her retrace her route and stay on the right roads. 

As she came to the main road, leaving the treacherous mountain paths behind, she was able to remove one hand from the wheel, which she reached over for Yoosung’s hand.  She wrapped her fingers around his, and gave them a gentle squeeze, rubbing her thumb tenderly across the backs of his knuckles.  His fingers were so long and slender…his skin was as soft as a baby’s. 

However, his hands were clammy and cold to the touch.  His fingernails were a sickly blue.  His lips were also turning blue, and his face was quickly taking on a dull, gray pallor. 

_God, please, don’t take him away from me now._

_Not after all he’s been through._

_Please, let him live._

_Dammit, he deserves to live!_

_Please, let him stay with me.  I love him and I need him with me._

“Please, sweetheart.  Hang on, just a little longer.  You’ve made it through so much already; just hang on a little longer.  I love you.  I love you so,  _so_  much.  I just need you to stay with me.  Okay?”  Damn, it was hard for her to hold back her tears.  

“Okay….Eleanora.” His voice was so weak, but so sweet as he addressed her by name for the first time in person.  

She glanced over at him, and he was looking up at her, that same angelic gaze he had for her earlier.  Her heart melted into the soles of her feet.  She felt him squeeze her hand, his grip weak and his hands trembling….and so, so cold. 

She could feel in the pit of her stomach that he was slipping away before her eyes.

“I—I love you, Eleanora,” his voice was so small, barely more than a whisper.

“I love you too, baby. More than anything in the world.   _I told you I’d find you and bring you home_.”  She lifted his hand to her lips and planted soft kisses on each of his delicate fingers.  The faintest hint of a smile played across Yoosung's blue-tinged lips.

 

* * *

 

6:15pm

 

Eleanora punched the gas pedal down a little harder, pushing Seven’s car to its limit on this largely deserted highway.  It was almost dark, but on the distant horizon, she could see the faintest glow of the city lights, still a good 80 miles away.  It’s Christmas, so there should not be any traffic.  As long as there are no other setbacks, Seven’s car should make quick work of those 80 miles.

Speeding west down the highway at nearly twice the posted speed limit, it took less than an hour to leave the eastern mountainous region behind.  City lights lit up the horizon.  Soon, the signal indicator bars on her phone jumped up, and she had cell phone service.  Pressing the voice command button on the steering wheel, she said “Call Jumin Han”.  The phone rang twice before someone picked up. 

“Jumin Han’s office, Assistant Kang speaking.”  For a split second, Eleanora wondered what on earth Jaehee was doing answering phones for Jumin…on Christmas.

“Jaehee!  It’s Eleanora."

“Oh, hello, Eleanora.  Merry Christmas.  How are you this evening?” Jaehee said pleasantly.

“No time for pleasantries, Jaehee.  I've got Yoosung.”

Silence, followed by a tiny gasp.

“I'm sorry, Eleanora, I must have misunderstood you. Could you please repeat that?" 

"You heard me correctly, Jaehee.  I have Yoosung."

"You found him? _He's with you?!”_  

Jaehee sounded uncharacteristically flabbergasted, and Eleanora heard shuffling and a series of faint beeps and clicks on the line.

“Yes.  I have him with me right now, but he is badly injured.  We are heading west on route 60 toward the city as fast as I can make this car move.  I’m heading straight for the hospital.  There’s no time to meet an ambulance.  In about …uh… (she paused to check the GPS)…23 minutes, I’m going to need a police escort and traffic control from the outskirts of town right up to the hospital’s emergency entrance.  The hospital also needs to be notified so they can be ready.  He needs blood.  Type A.  _Massive_  amounts of it, and he will need a full trauma team standing by on arrival.  We can’t afford any delays.  Can you relay this to Jumin?”

Jumin’s voice suddenly came onto the line:  “No need, Eleanora. Assistant Kang has patched me into the call.  I heard everything, and I’m already on the line with police dispatch to arrange your escort to the hospital.  Just keep driving toward the city as fast as you safely can, and we will meet you at the hospital in approximately 20 minutes.  Everything will be ready.”  As always, Jumin’s deep, calm voice was calm and reassuring, even if there was a distinct tone of urgency in his words.

“Thank you,” Eleanora said, but the call was already disconnected. 

She looked down at Yoosung, squeezing his hand again.  “Yoosung, are you still with me?” 

He startled a bit when she called his name, as if pulled back from the edge of a deep sleep. 

“Hi, babe,” he said softly, and with a tiny grin.

Eleanora smiled.  How is it possible that her sweetheart could still manage to be adorable, even at death’s doorstep?

“Hey, cutie.  Try not to go to sleep, okay?  I need you to stay as alert as you can.  Talk to me about something.”

"What...should I talk about?  I’m so...tired..."  

“I know you are, sweetheart, but it’s really dangerous for you to sleep right now.  Let’s see….what can we talk about...” Eleanora thought for a second, and then inspiration struck. 

“I bet you’re looking forward to playing LOLOL again.  I want you to teach me to play so we can go on quests and fight the big bosses together.  I can be your sidekick.  What do you think?”

Yoosung’s eyes widened slightly with interest, and he smiled weakly.  “Wow...really?  I’d love that."

His voice was a bit stronger, exactly what Eleanora wanted to hear.  “But, if you want to get the good weapons and armor, you'll need to learn how to run in raid parties,” he added.

“Okay, then.  You can teach me that, too.  Teach me everything you know about LOLOL.  Before long, I bet I'll outrank you!”  Eleanora was hoping to tease him into a playful argument, to keep him awake and focused.

“You really think you can beat me?  I’m the second-highest ranking player on the Shooting Star server.” Even with his voice being as weak as a kitten's, he still managed to sound adorable as he pretended to be indignant.  

“Of course I can beat you!  I’m a fast learner, and I will have very best teacher to learn from.”  

Yoosung smiled again, but weaker than before.  His eyes, normally a brilliant amethyst, looked almost as gray and dull as his skin.  He was barely keeping them open.

For the next ten minutes, she kept him talking about his favorite game, mostly by asking him questions for which he’d give short, simple answers.  He was far too weak to carry on a full conversation, but Eleanora was only trying to keep him awake and engaged until they arrived at the hospital.  Each time he spoke, he sounded more languid.  His skin was pale gray, his eyes had lost almost all of their color, his lips and fingernails were bluish-purple.  His breathing was slow, irregular, and noisy. Occasionally, he would cough, which would cause him to moan painfully. 

Eleanora could see that Yoosung had mere minutes to live.  Her foot pressed the gas pedal to the floor.

They were entering the outskirts of the city, and traffic was beginning to pick up.  It was almost 7pm, and with the Christmas holiday, there was far less traffic than what there would usually be.  Suddenly, a police car appeared behind her, lights flashing and siren blaring.

“ _Oh God, are you serious?_  No way.  I’m  _not_  stopping.”

Just as she was about to call 911 to let police dispatch know about the situation, a second police car pulled up alongside, also with lights and sirens.  Another one pulled up to the other side, and one pulled in front, a few car lengths ahead.  Jumin had come through on the police escort.  The officer in the car to her left looked over at her, and gestured by pointing forward repeatedly, giving her permission to continue at speed.  She floored the gas pedal, and the police cars matched her speed in formation around her.

“Look, baby.  You’re getting a welcome home parade!” 

“Wow… I feel...important…”  Yoosung tried to laugh, but coughed instead, moaning as the strain of coughing sent searing jabs of pain through his belly.  His breathing had become very slow and labored.  

“Oh, my sweetheart.  You are  _very_ important.  You’re everything to me.”  Eleanora squeezed his hand again.  This time, he didn’t squeeze her hand in return.

“I’m…I’m…so sleepy…and…cold…” He sounded so tiny.  She turned up the heater, unsure if it would even help him.

“I know, honey, but you’ve got to stay awake just a little longer, okay?  We’re almost there…” 

No response.

“Hey, Yoosung.  What were you telling me about your character on LOLOL?  What level is his armor?   _Yoosung_ …”

Nothing. 

“Sweetie… please.  _Stay with me…”_

Eleanora’s voice rose in panic.  “YOOSUNG!   _Come on, baby…answer me!_    What level is your character’s armor?!  What should I roll for my first character--should I do DPS or heals??”

_“Yoosung, sweetheart…please!  Don't leave me..."_

No response.  She could no longer hear his breathing, and his hand was deathly cold. 

“No…” she whispered.

For the first time since this operation began, Eleanora truly felt full-blown panic.  She floored the gas pedal once again and laid on the car's horn, and the cops around her kept up, still blaring sirens and lights.  The highway exit for the hospital was only one mile away, and within seconds, they were slowing down a bit in order to safely exit the highway.  The hospital was immediately ahead, and Eleanora burned tires screeching into the ambulance driveway. 

A team of emergency medics stood at the ready, and immediately swarmed the car with a whirlwind of activity.  Within seconds, Yoosung was on a stretcher, being rushed inside.  He disappeared behind the emergency room doors, leaving Eleanora standing alone in the empty, silent hospital entrance. 

She had never felt so helpless.  Looking down, she noticed her black sweater—the one she used to bandage Yoosung’s wound—had fallen to the ground.   She picked it up, digging her fingers into the rolled-up material, feeling the wet warmth of his blood still fresh on the fabric.  She hugged it to her, not caring about the blood stains on her shirt, arms and hands. 

Sinking to her knees, clutching the shirt to her heart, Eleanora finally allowed herself to crumble, falling apart completely.  All the panic, fear, dread, worry…it all flooded out as tears streamed freely over her hot, red face.

* * *

 


	9. At the Brink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Eleanora arrives at the hospital, Yoosung is showing no signs of life. After he is rushed into emergency care, Eleanora is left alone in the hospital's entryway. Then, she feels a hand on her shoulder, and a kind, familiar voice...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is really short, but it covers an important and sweet moment of unity for the RFA members as they gather at the hospital for Yoosung.

**Chapter 9: At the Brink**

December 25th

* * *

 

7:29pm

 

“Eleanora?”  A familiar voice came from behind her, and a hand gripped her shoulder tightly.  Eleanora slowly turned and looked up to see Jaehee Kang standing by her side. Her eyes were red and shiny.  It was clear that she’d also been crying.

Eleanora stood up, and, without any words, fell into her dear friend's arms.  The two women held each other, both seeking comfort in each other as they shared their tears.  A moment later, another set of arms encircled them, belonging to Zen.  The next belonged to Seven, as he placed a hand comfortingly on Eleanora's head.  Then Jumin awkwardly joined the group embrace.  Eleanora felt completely enveloped in the love of her dearest friends as they surrounded her.

Still clutching her blood-soaked sweater, they made their way to a nearby, private waiting room, where they would spend the next several hours waiting to hear about Yoosung's fate.

“Can I get you anything, Eleanora?  Some coffee, or something to eat?”  Jaehee asked sweetly.  There was no way Eleanora could eat at a time like this, but she did gratefully accept the offer of coffee.  She still felt the chill of that horrible place, as well as the way Yoosung’s hands had felt so cold in hers.  It will take many cups of hot coffee to chase away that kind of cold.

Eleanora sipped her coffee, sitting in the middle of a leather sofa, with Jaehee to her right, and Seven to her left.  Zen occupied a chair just a few feet away, while Jumin stood watch near the door. 

The room was small, but cozy.  It was very comfortably furnished with a sofa and several chairs.  A small, dining-type table sat in a corner with two chairs, for anyone who wanted to have a snack or meal.  A floor lamp provided a relaxing amount of light, while a small Christmas tree in the corner provided some additional soft lighting. 

The room was mostly silent, save for the occasional sniffle.  A box of tissues sat in Eleanora’s lap, and a trash can stood nearby, half-filled with used tissues. 

The other RFA members showed varying levels of emotion.  Jaehee’s tears flowed almost as freely as Eleanora’s.  Seven and Zen both had red eyes and noses.  Jumin, however, stood stoically by the door, with his back to the group, occasionally excusing himself to visit the restroom. 

Zen later confided to Eleanora that he found Jumin wiping away tears in the restroom, but was sworn to not tell anyone. 

“Emotional outbursts are worse than useless, and are simply not professional” Jumin had said irritably to Zen, as he splashed water on his face, dried off with a towel, and stormed out the door. 

 _How perfectly Jumin-like,_ Eleanora thought as she promised Zen she wouldn’t breathe a word to a single soul. 

Jumin wasn’t fooling her; underneath that cool, logical exterior, she knew that he really did care.

 

* * *

 

11:55pm

 

It was nearly midnight when footsteps could be heard approaching the private waiting area, breaking the silence in the otherwise deserted hospital hallway.  A soft knocking quickly followed.

Jumin opened the door, and a man dressed in green surgical scrubs and mask entered the room. 

He removed the mask, revealing a rugged, yet kindly face appearing to be relatively young—with piercing green eyes and unruly brown curls poking out from under a surgical cap. 

“Good evening, everyone,” he said with a quick glance at the concerned faces in the room. 

He then focused on the two young ladies sitting on the sofa, “Which of you is Miss Eleanora?” 

“I am,” Eleanora answered him as she quickly rose to her feet.   _How did he know her name?_

The doctor nodded as he motioned for her to sit back down.  Setting back into her seat, she felt her hands both being held tightly by Jaehee and Seven, and Jaehee’s free arm wrapped around her shoulders tightly and protectively.  Both Jumin and Zen stood behind her, Zen’s hand solidly gripping her shoulder, and Jumin’s hand laying gingerly on her back.  Eleanora felt strengthened by the unified support from her beloved friends.

The doctor pulled up a chair, placing it backwards, then sat down, straddling the back of the chair. 

“My name is Doctor Ian Joseph.  I am the chief surgeon and attending physician that has been working on Mr. Kim tonight.” 

* * *

 


	10. Damage Report

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After hours of waiting, the attending doctor treating Yoosung gives a full report to Eleanora and the RFA crew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's where it starts getting a bit more fluffy. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy! 
> 
> Sorry if this chapter is a bit too detailed. I hope it doesn't ramble or drag tempo too much. I come from a family with a lot of medical background, so I dig this sort of thing. I personally don't have medical background, though, but I did do some research to at least make things seem plausible. All in all, don't take my terms and explanations too seriously--it's fiction, after all! ;)

**Chapter 10:  Damage Report**

December 26th

* * *

 

11:58pm

 

Doctor Joseph took a deep breath, looking squarely into Eleanora’s eyes.  She stared back at him, not daring to take a breath. 

“First off, I want to reassure you.  He’s alive, and we have gotten him stabilized.”  The group collectively sighed with relief.  Eleanora closed her eyes, silently and prayerfully mouthing the words  _thank you…thank you....thank you._

“Yoosung has suffered a 75% loss of his blood volume, which translates to about 4 liters of loss.  When the blade entered his abdomen, it nicked multiple major arteries, almost severing one of them completely.  The makeshift bandage you placed on the wound saved his life.  Had he not had immediate and constant pressure on the area, he would be lying in the morgue right now, without a doubt.

“Is he going to be okay?”  Eleanora was trembling uncontrollably, despite the four strong sets of arms around her, literally holding her together.

“I know this isn’t the answer any of you would like to hear, but it really is too soon to tell at the moment.  The fact that he is even alive at this moment is, frankly, amazing.  When he arrived at the hospital, he was in code blue status—cardiac arrest, no breathing.  He was resuscitated, then rushed into surgery, which is where he’s been for the past several hours.  He has just come out of surgery, where we repaired the damaged arteries, as well as the damage to his small intestine. 

“From a strictly technical standpoint, the surgery went perfectly.  The knife used in the attack was sharp, and the cuts we had to repair were all clean and smooth.  That is good, because it makes it easier to line up the edges and stitch them together.  It also results in a much lower rate of tissue death.  We also closed the other, less-severe blade wounds

“He is currently receiving blood transfusions and fluids, as rapidly as we can get them into him.  He is young and strong, and both of these factors work in his favor.  However, he is also severely dehydrated and malnourished.  I have to say that I have never had a patient compromised to the extent that this young man is, and still be alive, with or without the extensive injuries he is dealing with.  I don't use the term "miracle" lightly, but I believe that is precisely what we're seeing tonight.

“I can also tell you that I have never seen a patient with a stronger will to live in the face of what seem like impossible odds.  I believe that is what is making the difference here; and I am fairly confident that his willpower to live has a lot to do with you, Miss Eleanora."  Eleanora softly exhaled, and she felt Jaehee squeeze her hand.

The doctor continued, “Before we took him into surgery, he awoke—mind you, he had just been  _clinically dead_ —and called out your name several times.  Considering that this is an individual who should not be living, by all of the currently accepted medical standards—let alone awake, alert, and calling for a loved one—I’d say that you have yourself a remarkable young man, and that he clearly has a remarkable young lady.  That kind of love is at least as powerful a healing force as any tools or skills at my disposal.”

Eleanora felt her heart jump into her throat, and tears once again spilling down her cheeks.  Jaehee sobbed quietly next to her.  Seven grabbed a tissue and blew his nose.  Zen dabbed his eyes with a tissue, and Jumin turned away, leaning by one shoulder against the wall.   _So, that’s how the doctor knew my name,_  Eleanora realized. 

“Yoosung…. _my angel_ …” she whispered, closing her eyes.  She felt Jaehee’s grip around her shoulders tighten.  Eleanora leaned her head onto Jaehee’s shoulder trying to somehow offer her some of the comfort she has so readily provided everyone else throughout this ordeal.  

“There are a number of other injuries that will require treatment once the immediate threats to life have been addressed.  First and foremost, blood volume needs to be restored.  We have repaired the injuries, and he is getting blood transfused as we speak. 

“He has sustained a complete break of both the tibia and fibula of his left leg.  The injury is at least several weeks old.  Because it was never set properly, the bones have attempted to fuse incorrectly.  Once he is stabilized, he will have to have surgery to reconstruct these bones and set them properly.  An orthopedic specialist will need to oversee that, and I have already put in a request to have a colleague of mine—one of the best in the field—examine him here in the next couple of days.

“Also, he has a dislocated right shoulder with severe derangement of all of the surrounding muscles and tendons.  This also appears to be an injury that happened some time ago and never treated.  My colleague will also need to evaluate that, and determine whether surgery is necessary.  Both of these injuries have been stabilized for the time being.

“He also has a multitude of lacerations and burns, some of which were never closed properly, and some of which are currently infected.  We have already started him on some powerful antibiotics to preventatively treat the stab wound, and protect against potential complications from extreme blood loss, and the antibiotic treatment will also take care of these smaller infections as well.  A dermatologist will be checking him soon to see if any corrective actions can be made for the improperly healed skin wounds. 

“He does have some minor internal injuries, most likely the result of repeated sexual assault…..”

Jaehee gasped.  Jumin turned around to face the group, his face shocked and flushed. Seven dropped his head into his hands.  Zen stared angrily at the floor, a scowl twisting the delicate features on the actor’s beautiful face. 

Eleanora stared at the doctor in shock, her hands slowly balling into trembling fists—until they got so tight that she could feel her fingernails digging painfully into the heels of her palms.  She felt rage—pure, uncontained rage.  She watched the doctor continue to speak, but her mind had temporarily lost the ability to process his words.

“…seem to be healing well on their own.  The antibiotics he’s receiving should prevent any complications that arise in that regard.”

“This young man has been through an unimaginable amount of trauma, both physical and mental.  His body is about as weak as it could possibly be, and all of his physiological resources have been exhausted. 

“In order to give his body a chance to rest and repair itself, he has been put into a medically induced coma.  He is on a ventilator, which is a tube placed into the airway through the mouth to breathe for him.  He is also on a nasogastric tube, which enters through the nose and into the stomach.  This will be used to supply him with much needed nutrition until he is able to eat on his own, which will probably be at least a few days. 

“The goal here is to remove as much of the functional burden from his body as we possibly can, so that he can rest, and thus make the healing process as quick and efficient as possible.  We’ll see how he is doing in about twelve hours.  Tomorrow afternoon, if I see enough of an improvement, I may start slowly stepping him down from sedation.  Then, we can start treating the less severe injuries, and we can also begin checking him for any permanent damage that may have resulted from severe blood loss.”

“What do you mean by  _permanent damage?”_ Zen asked.  Eleanora’s gaze on the doctor intensified as she awaited his answer.

“Well, anytime you have blood loss to this extent, damage can occur to the organs, including the brain.  The reason is pretty straight-forward…blood is the vehicle the body uses to carry vital substances throughout the body—oxygen, in particular—and it's also what carries waste products away to be filtered out of the body by the kidneys. 

”So, when there is a major loss of blood volume, this system is unable to function properly.  This leads directly to two very dangerous situations.  The first problem that arises is lack of oxygen to vital organ systems, such as the brain and heart.  In severe cases, tissue death can begin occurring within minutes.  Secondarily, there is reduced efficiency in waste removal, which leads to a buildup of toxic substances in the blood.  This can quickly lead to septic shock, which is a life-threatening infection of the blood. 

“Checking for damage will be a slow process, likely over the next several days to a couple of weeks.  The brain is particularly susceptible to experiencing damage in this way, because it requires the most support from the cardiovascular system.  Once he is stable, we can begin scans to check for problems, and monitor for any changes as the blood volume is returned to normal.

Once again, Dr. Joseph glanced around at all parties present, before settling his gaze back on Eleanora.  “I’ll not sugar-coat this, because I’m fairly certain each of you already has a pretty firm grasp of what I’m about to say.  Yoosung has a very long and very difficult road ahead of him.  His home will be right here at this hospital for at least a few weeks.  He will likely need multiple surgeries in the coming weeks, each one followed by intense physical and occupational therapies to regain his full range of abilities.  Considering what he has been through, I expect that he will also need extensive psychological therapy to help him come to terms with everything that has happened to him.  All of this will be hard, painful work.”

The doctor sat forward in his seat and regarded Eleanora gently, “if his love for you is what has kept him alive during this whole, long, terrible ordeal, then you need to fully understand the vital and immeasurable role that you and your support will be playing during his recovery process.”

“I understand…I will be there for him every step…of th-the…w-way,” Eleanora's voice broke as the tears began to flow once again. 

“Sorry…” she grabbed a fresh tissue and brought it to her face.

“No need to apologize, Miss.” The doctor smiled kindly at Eleanora.  “Do any of you have questions for me before I go?”

She sniffled again.  “When….when can I see him?” 

“It will probably be another hour or so.  He is still being monitored in post-op recovery.  Once they release him, he’ll be moved to the intensive care unit, where we can keep a close eye on him for the next few days.  Once he is settled into a room, you will be able to see him.  The ICU usually only lets up to two people visit at a time during the day, and only lets one person be in the room overnight, but depending on who is the charge nurse tonight, they may allow you all to come in for just a few minutes.”

Doctor Joseph stood up to leave.  “The next day or two will be mostly just waiting and seeing how he does.  I’ll be back in the morning to check on him.”

Eleanora suddenly jumped to her feet, rushes to Dr. Joseph, and gives him a hug. 

“Thank you, for saving him,” she said, almost in a whisper.

Dr. Joseph laid his hand gently on her shoulder.

“You are very welcome, though I believe you had at least as much to do with it as I did.”

He smiled kindly at Eleanora, before excusing himself from the room.

* * *

 


	11. Found...and Lost:  Seven's Secret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seven wonders what became of "Unknown", for reasons that none of the others could possibly expect. Eleanora and the others are puzzled by his reaction when she explains what happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short and sweet, with a heaping helping of dramatic irony on the side.
> 
> I'm considering writing a side story about where Seven goes and what he does after learning that "Unknown" is dead. For now, I'm leaving the characters in the dark...thinking that Seven is just feeling guilty and traumatized by what happened to Yoosung.

**Chapter 11: Found…and Lost (Seven’s Secret)**

December 26th

* * *

 

12:21am

 

Zen was still glaring at the floor.  “I can’t believe what all they did to him.  Bastards.”

Eleanora took another tissue from the box on Jaehee’s lap and wiped her swollen, red nose.  “Not  _they_.  It was just the one guy.  The one who called himself ‘Unknown’.  He was the same one who hacked into my phone and led me to Rika's apartment and the RFA.”  Eleanora said softly.  Seven, who was still resting his face in his hands next to Eleanora, suddenly sat up, his face almost as red as the mop of hair on his head.  His face showed an expression that was difficult to decipher.

“What happened to him?  …to  _'Unknown'?”_   Seven asked, a strange deepness to his voice that almost didn’t even sound like him.  “Did he get away?”  He almost sounded hopeful.

She shook her head slowly, “No.  He’s dead."

Everyone in the room froze in shock, staring at Eleanora, who shifted uncomfortably in her seat.  Seven's eyes widened, his mouth dropping open in apparent shock. 

"I waited until he was gone.  I...I was trying to get Yoosung out, and Unknown came in.  There was a confrontation, then he rushed at Yoosung with a knife.  That’s when he was stabbed.  It all happened so fast...” Eleanora closed her eyes as the events played in her head all over again.  The entire moment as it happened took place in the space of a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity as Eleanora relived it. 

“I pulled him off of Yoosung, and…I don’t know what happened…I… swung around and...I kicked him in the head.  I just meant to knock him out, but his head…his skull...he…he died within seconds.  I didn’t mean to  _kill_  him, but…I’m not sure if I’m sorry I did it.  He hurt Yoosung…over, and over, and over again.  He wasn't going to stop, and he wasn't going to let him go.”

As Eleanora spoke, Seven once again buried his face and wept bitterly.  Eleanora reached around his shoulders and squeezed him. 

Softly, she told him, “It’s okay, Seven.  Yoosung is safe now.  ... _Seven_ …?”  Seven stood up abruptly, facing away from Eleanora.  His shoulders heaved with sobs.

“Eleanora, I’m…so…this is…it’s…my fault…I’m …I’m so sorry.  I never meant… _oh God_ … _Sae...ran_ …”  The anguish in his voice rose until his voice became distorted.  His hands covered his face, and his last words were barely intelligible. 

 _Saeran?_   _What does that mean?  Who is that?_

“Seven…”  Eleanora stood up, reaching out to hug him, as the others looked on in silent, shocked bewilderment.

Seven awkwardly staggered backward, recoiling from Eleanora's touch.  Wiping his face on his jacket sleeve and clearing his throat, he said abruptly, “I have to go.  I’m sorry, everyone.  Eleanora…take good care of Yoosung, okay?  He's a good kid, and he didn't deserve... Ughhh..." he began to stammer.  "I just...I gotta go.  I’ll be back soon, I promise.  I just need to…go…be alone for a while.”  Without another word, he was out the door.

Eleanora sat, mouth agape, as she wondered what had just happened. She had never seen Seven like this.  Nobody had.

"Did I...do something wrong?" she asked timidly.

"No. You did exactly what you had to do.  From everything I've seen and heard, there is little doubt in my mind that Yoosung would be dead right now if you had done anything differently," Jumin said reassuringly.

“Seven must be feeling extremely guilty.  I wish he didn't, because nobody faults him for what happened to Yoosung.”  Jaehee observed.  “I hope he is careful out there.  It’s not safe to drive when you’re overcome with emotion.”

Zen sat back in his seat.  “It’s not safe to drive the way he does, crying or not,” he noted.  “He probably just needs some time to sort things out.  I’m sure he’ll be fine in a bit.”  To Eleanora, he added, "Good job, Eleanora.  I'm glad you kicked that bastard's ass....er, head." Zen snickered at his own little joke.

Eleanora smiled appreciatively at Zen’s praise, then turned her attention toward the door that Seven had just exited.  She had no idea what to think about his unusual, emotional outburst...but she hoped with all of her heart that he would be okay.

Her mind was still swirling in a haze, still trying to process everything that had happened.  Everything felt so...so surreal; was it possible she had dreamed the last 24 hours, and she was really back at her apartment, dozed off at her computer?

She looked at each of her friends.  Jaehee was still sitting to her right, and Jumin had claimed a seat across the room, near the door.  Zen stood up and moved to the seat next to Eleanora that was vacated when Seven left.

She was so grateful to have these people in her life; their love and support had been her lifeline in the past seven months. 

However, her heart ached for Seven, and she wished that he didn’t feel so guilty.  Yoosung was alive, he was safe, he was getting the help he needed, and it seemed like he was going to be able to recover. 

She was so grateful…for everything.  For the first time, she felt like maybe, just maybe, everything might actually be alright.  Once again, she leaned her head onto Jaehee’s strong and capable shoulder.

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UPDATE: Since this story has been expanded (see my profile and works list to find the "Expanded Edition"!), and made into a series, I have developed plans of working the subplot of Seven and Saeran into a future volume of the series! Stay tuned!


	12. Rest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eleanora finally gets to see her Yoosung.

**Chapter 12: Rest**

December 26th

* * *

 

1:12am

 

“Eleanora…”  As her name was spoken, she felt Jaehee gently patting her back.

“ _Yeah?_   I’m awake,” Startled, she snapped to attention and tried to act like she hadn’t dozed off on Jaehee's shoulder as she quickly brushed a small puddle of drool from the corner of her mouth.  

Jaehee nodded her head toward the door, where stood a petite, middle-aged nurse, clutching a folder in her hands.

“Miss Eleanora?  I’m here to take you up to see Mr. Kim.”  Regarding the others in the room, she smiled apologetically.  “It’s probably best if only one or two of you go in for now."

Jumin stood up, stretching his arms.  “Assistant Kang, I think it’s best if you and I take our leave for now.  Zen, you should probably also head home and get some rest.  We'll be of more use here if we are not dead tired.  Let's allow Eleanora to have some time alone with Yoosung.  We can visit tomorrow.”

The friends said their goodbyes, each giving Eleanora a hug.  After they were gone, Eleanora followed the nurse out of the waiting room, down a large hallway, and into an elevator.  The hospital was huge—one of the largest in the country—and it was strange to see such a large place that’s usually bustling with people and activity, almost completely deserted in the middle of the night.  

The nurse pushed the button for the 9th floor, and the smooth metal doors slid shut.  She smiled kindly at Eleanora.

“So, I take it that you're his…?”  She paused tentatively, hoping to lead Eleanora to fill in the blank.

“Girlfriend.  I’m his girlfriend.”  Eleanora blushed. 

“Ah...I see.  That's lovely, dear.  Have the two of you been together long?”

“Long enough.”  In her muddled, overwhelmed mind, Eleanora silently hoped that the nurse’s attempt at friendly (but nosy) chit-chat was finished.  She had far too much to think about right now.

Soon, the elevator door opened, and they were on the hospital's 9th floor.  They stepped into a large, completely deserted waiting area.  The opposing side of the room was lined with floor-to-ceiling windows, through which the illuminated city skyline cut a sharp contrast against the cold, dark night sky. 

Eleanora followed the nurse past a brightly lit nurse’s station, at which three other nurses sat at workstations and typed on medical notes.  A wall of monitors behind them, making the station look like a war room, displayed vital signs of the patients in the ward.  Eleanora wondered if one of them were for Yoosung, but did not linger long enough to look closely.

They proceeded a short distance down a hallway.  The fluttering in her heart was growing steadily with each step, approaching a crescendo as the nurse opened a door.  Taking a deep breath and trying to prepare herself, she followed the nurse into the dimly lit room.

Yoosung was lying flat on his back in the hospital bed.  A large tube emerged from his mouth, held in place by a plastic mouthpiece and elastic strap that went around his head.  A small white tube came from his right nostril and was taped in place to his cheek.  A short plastic tube stood out from his chest at the sternum, to which a smaller tube attached, apparently supplying blood directly into his sternum bone.  His hospital shirt was open halfway up the chest, and Eleanora could see another port going into his chest below his left collarbone, to which more blood transfusion lines were attached.  Both of these had bruising around them, likely due to the urgency with which they were placed.  He had IV ports in both arms, between the wrists and elbows. 

His wrists were bandaged where the cuffs he had worn for so long had worn his skin raw.  His neck still bore the marks from his collar.  Numerous wires and electrical leads were attached to him:  tiny wire leads went through his messy hair and attached to various points on his scalp, where they monitored his brain activity.  Others attached to round, sticky pads on his chest, while still others disappeared under the covers.  Each tube and wire connected to some machine, monitor, or apparatus that sat near the bed.  Four upright racks for IV fluid bags flanked his bed, two on each side.  From each of them, multiple bags and packets hung.  Many, labelled “A”, contained blood, some were clear fluids, and a few were other various colored liquids.  The tubes carrying blood ran through pumping mechanisms that made frequent click and whirring noises.  A heart monitor beeped softly in time with his pulse, which was at a steady resting pace.  The ventilator machine made a soft, rhythmic air-rushing sound as it carried all of the burden of breathing for him.

He looked so small and frail, surrounded by so many pieces of equipment that were working to keep him alive.  His face was still ghost white, but he no longer had the gray pallor of death; his lips were sallow, but had shed their blue tint from earlier.  His face looked relaxed and peaceful, a far cry from the tense, pained expression he wore previously.

The nurse moved a few of the machines around to make room at Yoosung’s bedside.  “Let’s see, my dear…how about we put the chair right here, so you can be close to him?  We allow patients to have loved ones with them at all hours, because medical science has proven that it helps with the healing process.”

She moved a small, but comfortable-looking reclining chair right up next to Yoosung’s bed. 

“The bathroom is right there, plus there are also restrooms across the hall.  Just down the way to the left, there is a small kitchenette for visitors.  There are drinks, snacks, coffee, and a few light meal items for when the cafeteria is closed.  You’re welcome to help yourself.  I’ll just be down the hall at the nurse’s station.  Press the call button on the remote or on the bed rail if you need me, and I’ll be stopping in every half hour to check on him.”

Frozen in place, eyes still fixed on Yoosung, Eleanora mumbled a distracted thanks to the nurse, who quietly stepped out.  It was a couple of minutes before she was capable of movement.

“ _Oh…sweetheart_.”  She realized that she had been holding her breath.  

There he was, right in front of her, but she couldn’t believe it.   _Was this really happening?_

Stepping up to the side of the bed, she gingerly touched his forehead, softly pushing back a lock of his unruly hair before gently stroking his cheek with the backs of her fingers.  He was cool to the touch; not nearly as deathly cold as he felt earlier.

Slowly, she settled into the chair.  Slipping her shoes off and pulling her legs up under her, she turned to face her sweet Yoosung.  Reaching through the gap in the bed’s guard rail, she laced her fingers around his.  With the other hand, she reached across the top of his head, running her fingers through his hair and gently stroking his head, carefully avoiding the tiny wire leads on his scalp.  Leaning in close, she spoke softly, her lips only a few inches from his ear.

“I’m here, baby.  I’m right here beside you, and that’s where I will be from now on…I promise.  I love you so much."  She pauses to take a deep breath.  She could feel the tears coming again, and she did nothing to stop them.  Every wall, barrier, protective mechanism she had built around herself in recent months were slowly crumbling down.

"Rest, my darling...just rest.  You’ve earned it.  I know how tired you are.  Just relax…sleep…and heal.  I’ll be right here with you.  You’re safe now.”  Leaning over, she planted small, soft kisses on his forehead, his cheek, and the backs of his fingers.

All of the worry, all of the heartache, the hope that built up, crashed down, and lunged upward again like a demented roller coaster—all of it combined into a ball that burst into flames.  At that moment, everything fell away and left pure, raw emotion.  She was here, he was here, and he was safe.  He was far from being  _okay_ , but he was moving in that direction.  Slowly.  And she was by his side.

He had saved her, and she had saved him.  Soul cleansing, heart-healing sobs heaved her body as she finally purged all of the pressure and tension that had built up over the last seven months.  Their path to healing had begun.

* * *

 


	13. Baby Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next 48 hours brings about a lot of progress.
> 
> Jumin, Jaehee, and Zen all drop by to visit, and Zen shares a sweet moment with Eleanora as he admires what she did for Yoosung. 
> 
> Seven is still nowhere to be seen...

**Chapter 13: Baby Steps**

December 26th

* * *

 

6:34am

 

Eleanora’s sleep was a series of naps, punctuated by twice-hourly visits by nurses who came to check vital signs and transfusion progress.  She was curled up in the chair, which was surprisingly comfortable, with her right arm curled protectively around Yoosung’s head, and her left hand wrapped around his left hand.  Her head rested on the edge of the chair’s back, and only an inch or two from the edge of the bed. 

She watched the sun rise over the city from the massive windows that ran from floor to ceiling across the far side of the room.  The view was stunning, as the rosy light of dawn painted watercolor streaks across the purple sky.  A dense fog hung over the city, catching a pale pink cast from the earliest of the sun’s rays.  Unlike the last sunrise Eleanora witnessed--which matched this one in beauty and splendor, but carried with it fear and uncertainty--this one held hope, promise, and love.  So much love.  

 

* * *

 

8:20am

 

“His color is much better today,” the doctor noted as he examined Yoosung.  “His lab work looks promising, too, though most of the measurements won’t be too reliable until his newly transfused blood supply settles a bit. Overall, I'm very impressed and pleased with his progress.  Although, after what I saw last night, I can't say I'm all that surprised.” 

The transfusions were complete, and two of the IV ports that were being used solely for infusing blood were removed.  The line into his sternum was also removed.  It left several large holes where the needles went through his skin and directly into the bone, where it could give large amounts of blood rapidly.  It looked painful, and was already significantly bruised, but the doctor assured Eleanora that Yoosung never felt it. 

“That kind of infusion line is not very common, but in emergency situations like last night, it can be a life-saver, because it's one of the fastest and most efficient ways to get blood or fluids into the body in a way the body can utilize quickly and easily.  The insertion site and the bone itself will be sore for a week or two, but it should be manageable."  

"Also, I’ve put in the call to the orthopedic doctor to come take a look at his leg and shoulder.  He should be stopping by later on today.  I’ll be back by this evening to check on him.  If he continues this rate of progress, I'll probably start easing him off of the sedatives starting tomorrow afternoon...though it will probably still be a while after that before he actually regains consciousness.” 

After a few words with the nurse, the doctor left.

 

* * *

 

11:29am

 

Shortly before lunch, Jaehee and Jumin stopped by to visit.  Although the rules generally only allow two guests at a time, Jumin contacted the hospital administrator, who happened to be a friend of his from business college, and arranged for the rules to be …altered…a bit in this case. 

Jaehee carried a large vase of colorful flowers, and she grasped a large collection of balloons floating from a bunch of ribbons. 

“These balloons are from some of Yoosung’s friends at Sky University, and the flowers are from me,” she said as she anchored the balloons, then set the flowers on the counter across the room, next to the considerably larger and more elegant arrangement from Jumin that had been delivered an hour earlier.

“I only got a glimpse of him yesterday, but I’d say he looks considerably better this morning” Jumin observed.  Jaehee nodded in agreement.

 They visited for a few minutes, but left when a technician came in with a portable x-ray machine.  Eleanora stood in the doorway as the technician took pictures of Yoosung’s leg and shoulder.  These were for the orthopedic doctor who would be coming by in the afternoon.

At noon, a cart full of meal trays made its rounds in the ward.  A hospital worker came into the room with a tray.

“Oh…He can’t eat...” Eleanora started to explain.

“No, my dear, this is for you.  You get a complimentary tray for each meal.”  The worker, an older lady with silver hair, cheerfully explained.  She pulled a wheeled table over to Eleanora’s chair, and set the tray on it.  “Enjoy!”  She smiled, before leaving.

Eleanora tried to remember the last time she ate.  Was it at the Christmas Eve party?  No….it was later that night.  The night she found the communications tracer that led her to Yoosung.  Seven had brought her fried chicken. 

 _Seven…_ she thought back to last night in the waiting room, when Seven had gotten so upset that he had to leave.  She wondered where he was, and hoped he was okay.  She couldn't begin to imagine how he must be feeling.

Lifting the lid on the plate, Eleanora was greeted with the luscious aroma of roast beef and vegetables. 

Despite the common stereotypes about hospital food, the lunch tray looked absolutely lovely, and she felt like she had an appetite for the first time in a very long time.  She ate the full meal, feeding her body and mind, feeling her fortitude increase with each bite.

“Ahh...That’s what I like to see.  A pretty girl with a healthy appetite.”  Zen appeared in the door, a dazzling smile brightening his lovely face.  Eleanora, who was just finishing her meal, put down her fork and greeted the silver-haired musical actor with a smile. 

“How did you manage to get in here without drawing the attention of the paparazzi?”  Eleanora joked.

“I went ... _incognito_.” He brandished a bouquet of flowers from behind his back and held them over his face.  “See, you can’t even tell it’s me.  I look like any other ordinary florist making a get-well delivery at this hospital.”  

Eleanora giggled.

Zen pouted dramatically, “Of course, I hated every minute.  It’s a  _crime_  to hide this beautiful face, don’t you agree?” 

With an exaggerated harshness in her expression, Eleanora concurred, “Oh, absolutely.  You should be arrested and jailed immediately for obstruction of gorgeousness,” Eleanora and Zen shared a laugh, as Zen set the vase of flowers next to the ones that had arrived earlier.  The room was beginning to smell like a springtime garden.  

"Hmmph.  Of course, Mr. Trust Fund Kid just  _had_  to get the most obscenely enormous bouquet in the history of the world," Zen observed of the first flower delivery of the day.  

Eleanora shrugged, “It’s the thought that counts, right?” 

“I guess so…” Zen said as he scooted Jumin’s gift down (all the way down…into the corner behind the balloons) to make room for his own floral offering. 

“So, how’s our patient doing today?”  Zen approached the bed, standing next to Eleanora.

“He’s resting.  He’s all done with the blood transfusions.  He received 8 units of blood in total.  That’s why his color is so much better.  He’s still pale, but he looked much, much worse last night...”  She shuddered at the memory.

“Any word yet about when are they going to let him wake up?”

“The doctor thinks maybe tomorrow they will start slowly bringing him out of the coma.  It's a lengthy process, and they want to do it slowly to avoid over-stressing his system.  Once he’s out of the coma, it may still be a while before he actually wakes up.  We’re not going to rush him.”  Eleanora strokes her fingers delicately over Yoosung’s fingers, then intertwined them together.

“That makes sense.  After all he’s been through, he needs as much rest as possible.”  Zen said thoughtfully.

Eleanora nodded in agreement.

“And…what about you?  How are you doing?”  Zen stood, leaning against the wall next to Eleanora’s chair.  He regarded her with concern, like a worried big brother.

“Oh… _me_?”  Eleanora was a bit caught off-guard from the question.  She hadn’t actually thought much about how she, herself, was doing in well over 24 hours.  “I guess I’m…doing a lot better.  I’m feeling more relaxed, and I’ve got an appetite for the first time in ages.  Being here with him is my best medicine.”

Zen chuckled, his expression becoming oddly wistful.  “I guess I can understand that," he said, somewhat longingly.  

The intense gaze of his garnet eyes softened.

“Hey,” he said quietly.

"Yes, Zen?"

 _"You’re an amazing woman._   You know that?”  She glanced up at him, surprised by the unexpected praise—words she wasn't sure she really deserved.  Her expression was quizzical, and a hint of blush glowed on her cheeks.

Sensing her bewilderment, Zen explained. “What you did for him, Eleanora.   _You_  found him when no one else could--not the government, not the police, not the most respected investigators and search teams in the world.  You  _singlehandedly_  found him, rescued him, killed the asshole who took him, and then brought him to safety.   _You saved his life_.  All by yourself.  That’s …simply incredible.  How were you able to do all of that?”

 _“I love him.”_   Eleanora said softly as she looked over at Yoosung, and gently squeezed his hand.

“Wow.  I guess that says it all—the power of love.”  Zen smiled, but his expression looked distant, reverent, and almost prayerful. Despite his smile, a flash of sadness flickered across his face.

“I hope I can be loved like that someday," he sighed quietly as he stared at his feet.  His gaze returned to Eleanora.  "He is very fortunate to have you.”

“No.   _I’m_  the fortunate one.”  She was speaking to Zen, but her eyes were on Yoosung. 

After a few more minutes of small talk, and a quick hug, Zen excused himself to head to a rehearsal at a theater down the street, promising to stop by again afterward.

 

* * *

 

5:15pm

 

Dr. Joseph held Yoosung’s right eyelid open, shining a penlight into his eye, watching for a change in the dilation of his pupil. He then repeated the test on the other eye, with the same result.

“He’s still out.  I think we’re going to let him rest until tomorrow afternoon.  He’s making a lot of progress.  We’ve already stepped down some of the oxygen in his ventilator mix, and he’s maintaining good oxygen levels on his own—which means his lungs are picking up the slack.  Exactly what we want to see.”

The orthopedic specialist, a young, dark haired man with deep blue eyes by the name of Dr. Chase, stood at the other side of the bed.  Having already reviewed the x-rays, he had removed the temporary stabilizers from Yoosung’s leg and was examining it closely, his forehead furrowed in concentration.

“This leg has been broken for at least a month.  Maybe longer.  It looks like some crude treatment was done here, but the bones were never properly set, so now they’ve began to fuse together incorrectly.  A significant amount of reconstruction of both the tibia and fibula is going to be needed—once he's stable enough for surgery,” he concluded as he replaced the stabilizer brace on the leg.

Moving to the other side of the bed, he performed a quick manual exam of Yoosung’s shoulder.  “As for the shoulder, I don’t see the need to operate there.  The tendons are inflamed, but everything’s intact.  Once it’s popped back into joint, it should heal up just fine.  With him under sedation, we could go ahead and relocate it now, Dr. Joseph.” 

To Eleanora, Dr. Joseph explained, “Relocating a shoulder is a fairly straightforward procedure, as long as all of the bones and tendons are sound.  However, it can be unsettling to watch, since we have to manually pull the arm out far enough to align the ball and socket of the joint.  You don’t have to, but you might want to step out while we do it—it only takes a minute.”

“Thanks for the warning, but I’d like to stay.” Eleanora asserted.

Eleanora turned her head away as the doctors pulled and maneuvered Yoosung’s arm and manipulated it back into place.  She heard a series of pops as the joint was re-engaged correctly.  She shuddered, thinking how much that would have hurt if he had been awake.

“Are you sure he didn’t feel any of that?” Eleanora asked anxiously.

“Don’t worry, ma’am.  He didn't feel anything; he’s still fully under sedation.”  Dr. Chase reassured her.

Dr. Joseph added, “In fact, it will feel a lot better when he does wake up.  Reseating a dislocated joint almost always offers instant relief.” 

After a little more discussion, Dr. Joseph and Dr. Chase left the room to further discuss their plans for treatment.

 

* * *

 

9:59pm

 

The room was quiet and dark.  The nurse had just left from her twice-hourly check of Yoosung’s vital signs and IV sites.  He was finally hydrated to a normal level, so another of his IV lines had been removed, leaving just the ones in each of his arms.  Through one, he was receiving his pain medicine and the sedatives that kept him in the induced coma, some of which couldn’t be mixed with other medications.  The other one just had a slow drip of fluids to keep him from getting dehydrated again, and was available for any other medications that couldn’t be added to the other one.

Eleanora was curled up in the chair, pulled up next to the bed.  The safety rail on the upper part of that side of the bed was lowered, allowing her to lay her head on the edge of the bed, her face inches away from him.  Leaning over, she kissed his forehead, wishing fervently that he could feel her kisses and understand how deeply she loved him. 

“I hope you’re not hurting, my love.”  She planted more kisses on his cheeks, his forehead, and the side of his mouth—the ventilator tube was still in place. 

“I’m so glad you came into my life, Yoosung.  Do you know that?  I don’t know what I did to deserve such a priceless gift as your love.”  She carefully lifted his hand to her lips, kissing the tips of each long, slender finger. 

“Just keep on sleeping, baby.  Get all of the rest you need, so you can make your way back to me.  I’ll stay right here and keep you safe.  It’s my turn to protect you."

She fell asleep staring across the room to the city lights outside, her hand still grasping his.

 

* * *

 

December 27th

2:23pm

 

Yoosung's coloring was almost back to normal today.

The drug cocktail that was keeping Yoosung in a coma had been slowly decreased throughout the day, to the point where he was only on pain controlling medicine.  The next step, according to Dr. Joseph, was to gradually step down the settings on the ventilator.  Ideally, as the ventilator is slowly turned down, Yoosung’s own respiratory system should step up and take over, until it is functioning entirely on its own.  Then, the tube can be removed.

“It looks like he’s holding his own” the doctor observed.  To the nurse, he instructed, “Let’s go ahead and remove this tube and see how he tolerates that over the next few hours.  Be sure to keep a close watch on his oxygen saturation levels and intervene if he drops below 94.  I’ll make my next rounds this evening, and we’ll see how he’s doing then.  Call me if there’s any problems or if you need to intubate again.”  He then left.

“Alright, let’s get rid of this tube…” The nurse said obligingly, as she disconnected the tube from the machine and moved the machine out of the way.  Then, she removed the tube from where it connected to the mouthpiece.  Finally, she pulled the mouthpiece out, which brought with it a length of tubing that was much longer than Eleanora had expected it to be.   _How far down did that thing go?_   She cringed as she thought about it.  The removal of the long tube left a trail of spittle on his chin.  Using a washcloth, the nurse cleaned his mouth and chin.

“The feeding tube will need to stay in place until he can eat on his own,” the nurse explained, checking to make sure it was in its proper place.  “Baby steps, right?” She smiled at Eleanora.

Eleanora nodded in agreement, though her gaze was fixed on her sweetheart's face.  It was so good to see him without that huge tube in his mouth.

 

* * *

 

7:08pm

 

Darkness had settled in over the city.  A thick layer of clouds amplified the city lights, casting a soft, ethereal glow into the darkened hospital room. 

Curled up in the reclining chair next to the bed, with a small reading lamp providing the only other lighting in the room, Eleanora was reading aloud to Yoosung from a gaming magazine Jaehee had brought in a few hours earlier.  One hand was holding the magazine, which was folded over to the page from which she was reading.  The other hand was wrapped around Yoosung’s.

Earlier in the afternoon, Jaehee had stopped by briefly on her way back to work from her (late) lunch break.  At the time, Jaehee had suggested to Eleanora that she read to him about something he liked.  Of course, Eleanora immediately thought of the subject matter that had kept him conscious and talking to her as they raced to the hospital on Christmas night.

“You know how much he loves gaming.  What about something on that topic?” Eleanora had suggested.  “I don’t supposed you know of any books about LOLOL?” she asked with a playful smirk. 

She was joking, of course, but she wouldn’t have been at all surprised if Jaehee did, in fact, have knowledge of such a thing.  Jaehee never ceased to amaze with her seemingly bottomless supply of knowledge of just about every subject imaginable.

“Um…no.  But, I know there are several magazine publications about gaming in general.  Maybe I can find one that features LOLOL.  I’ll go to the bookstore and see what I can find.”

An hour later, she returned with a small stack of magazines, setting them down on the small table next to the bed.  “These are all about gaming, and each of them has at least one article about LOLOL.  Try reading these to him.  If he can hear you, it might encourage him to wake up.”

Eleanora looked at the stack, clearly impressed.   _Is there anything this smart, capable woman can’t do?_   Eleanora wondered. 

“Thank you so much, Jaehee,” Eleanora said, as she gave her best friend a big hug.  “I know he’ll enjoy these.”

Now that Yoosung had been removed from the drugs that kept him in a coma, they were only waiting for him to find his way back to consciousness.  Dr. Joseph warned that it could take as much as a couple of days for him to wake up, but that it was possible that he might already be able to be aware of his surroundings, so it was vitally important for Eleanora to talk to him and interact with him, to encourage him to wake up, and to give him comfort...since it can be a difficult and unsettling, even frightening, process to wake up from a coma.

As she read to him, she held his hand, occasionally tracing the contours of his knuckles with her thumb.  She would stop periodically and ask him a question, to see if he would respond, but he never did.  She was happy to just hear the sound of his calm, peaceful breathing—on his own, not with the help of a noisy machine.

“Yoosung, did you know about the new expansion that’s being planned for LOLOL next summer?  According to this article in _RPG Weekly_ , they’re going to introduce new races and classes, and a whole new talent system.  It actually looks like a lot of fun...I think I’d like to..." her words trailed off as she felt a subtle twitch from the hand resting in hers.

She froze in place, focusing all of her senses into the hand she had wrapped around his.  “Did you just move your hand?  Do it again, sweetie.  If you can hear me, try squeezing my hand.” Her heart threatened to pound out of her chest as she encouraged him.  "Come on, baby, I know you can do it.”

Soft as the flutter of a baby sparrow’s wings, she felt his fingers tighten around hers ever so slightly.  Her breath caught in her throat.

“Oh…Yoosung... Are you coming back to me?”

“Mhmmm…” The sound—a faint, hoarse moan—was barely audible.  His chest rose a bit as his breathing deepened slightly.

The magazine forgotten, Eleanora pulled her legs under her so that she was sitting on her knees in the chair, allowing her to lean in close to Yoosung.  Her face was just inches from his as she gently stroked his hair.

“What is it, baby?  Tell me what you need. Anything at all…”  She asked him as she pressed the nurse call button.

 _“Y….you….”_  He squeezed her hand again, his grip still very weak, but definitely noticeable.

 _“mnnn…need…you…Elea…nora…”_   His sweet words were so faint, but they melted her heart.  Tears stung at her eyes.

“I’m here.  I’m right here, sweetheart…” Her words faltered.

A pleasant voice crackled over the intercom. _“Can I help you?”_  

“He’s waking up,” Eleanora could barely force the words out through her excitement. 

The voice came from over the intercom again.  _“I’ll be right there.”_

* * *

 


	14. A New Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two days after his rescue and near-death experience, Yoosung wakes up from the medically-induced coma that had allowed his body to rest while he received his blood transfusion. 
> 
> Finally, he and Eleanora are together, face-to-face. 
> 
> It's a brand-new day.

**Chapter 14: A New Day**

December 27th

* * *

 

7:15pm

 

The petite, middle-aged nurse Eleanora remembered from their first night at the hospital soon appeared at the door, turned on the lights, and walked briskly to Yoosung’s bedside.  She looked him over closely.  As he was becoming more and more aware, he was moaning softly with each breath, eyes still closed, but a pained look was etched onto his face.

“Are you hurting, baby?”  Eleanora asked him nervously, as the nurse recorded his vital signs.

“Mmmhmm… my head…hurts.  And...leg.  Everything…hurts...so...much...”  He squeezed Eleanora’s hand again as he cried out softly.  His eyes were still shut tightly, but tears spilled freely onto his pillow.

Alarmed, Eleanora turned to address the nurse.

“Can he have anything to help him with the pain?” Eleanora implored. 

“I’ll be contacting Dr. Joseph shortly with this development, and I’ll definitely ask him.  It’s hard to gauge the correct amounts of pain medicine in a patient who has limited consciousness.  Now that he can tell us how he is feeling, we’ll be able to stay on top of it much better.  I just need to ask a few questions and do some simple tests for my report to the doctor—the information will help him decide the best way to proceed.  It will only take a minute; I’ll be really fast.”

Eleanora nodded, and stepped back from Yoosung's bed.  Hesitantly, she let go of his hand, but not before planting a quick kiss on his fingertips.

“Mr. Kim, Can you open your eyes?”

After a moment of hesitation, he mumbled, "Can't.  Too heavy.  Hurts too much."  He was slightly slurring his words, as if the effort to say them was almost more than he could handle.

“It’s okay, dear," the nurse said, "Can you lift your arms?”

He tried, but wasn’t able to lift his hands from the surface of the bed by more than an inch. “Too heavy,” he said again. “I…I feel like…I’m m-made...out of lead.”

“That’s normal, dear, don’t worry.  How about wiggling your fingers.  Can you do that?”  Fingers on both hands fluttered, but only a little.

“Good.  Now, how about your toes?” the nurse lifted the sheet just enough to reveal Yoosung’s bruised, calloused feet.  He managed to move both big toes slightly, though it clearly hurt to move the toe on his broken leg.

“That’s great…the fact that you can move your extremities even a little bit means that your nervous system is rebooting nicely after being sedated for a while.  Over time, you’ll gain strength and be able to do more.  Baby steps.”

She then performed a number of tests of reflexes, sensory perception (“Can you feel this?” as she touched his foot…), and awareness (“Can you tell me your full name?  What year it is?”…).  He passed these tests with flying colors, though he still struggled to form his words.

After recording her observations for her report to the doctor on her clipboard, she adjusted the bed so that Yoosung was sitting up at a 45-degree angle.  Then, once again dimming the lights, the nurse left, promising to return shortly with the doctor and some pain killers.

The room was once again silent and dim.  The city lights shone like diamonds against the cold, dark velvet of the winter night sky.  Eleanora normally appreciated the spectacular view, but in this moment, the only thing that existed in her world was her Yoosung…her angel, who sacrificed so much for her.  She held his hand and gazed at his beautiful face, still tensed into a painful grimace.  His eyes were still closed tightly.  Gently, she stroked his face, carefully wiping away his tears with her fingertips.

“My darling…can you open your eyes now that the lights are turned down?  I’d give anything to see your beautiful eyes looking at me.”  Her heart and mind were spinning out of control, and she wasn’t sure she could string words together.  She had leaned in over the bed from her perch on the chair, resting with her arm on the side of the bed, and her face was only inches from his.  He could feel her warmth, and it gave him strength, just as it had done for the last seven months.

“For you… _anything_.  I want to...see you...so bad...”  Yoosung took a deep breath, and his eyes fluttered open just a tiny bit.  The task was much easier for him with the room darkened.  His breath caught as his eyes focused for the first time since his near-death, which already seemed like another lifetime ago.  Eleanora’s chestnut hair fell to her shoulders in soft waves, with her thick bangs laying lightly against her forehead.  Her eyes of warm honey-amber glistened as they reflected the lights of the city.  She was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen…an angel, right in front of him.

“There you are… _hi, baby!”_   Eleanora smiled, inwardly cringing at how cheesy she must have just sounded.

 _“Hey.”_  a tiny smile crept across his lips, which had regained their warm pink color.  “My God.  You're  _so_  beautiful.  Like an angel…My own angel…Eleanora.”

“Yes,  _your_  Eleanora.  Yours, forever.”  Her voice caught on the lump that had suddenly rose in her throat.

“Eleanora...”

“Yes, my love?”

“Would you…uh…I mean...can I please…k-ki...I want to...k…”  He squirmed nervously, causing himself to wince.  A hint of blush showed up on his pale cheeks as he struggled with his words.

Eleanora knew exactly what he was trying to ask her. 

“ _Gladly_.”  And, without another word, she quickly swept in and met his lips with hers.  Softly and delicately, the two of them melted together into their very first kiss.  His lips were so warm, soft, and gentle.  One of Eleanora’s hands was laced through his hair, the other cupped his face.  With some effort, Yoosung lifted his hand to Eleanora’s face, caressing her cheek with trembling fingertips.  She inhaled sharply as his fingers traced down her lower jaw.

“I love you.” He breathlessly whispered into her mouth.  “I’ve dreamed...about this...for so long…”

“I love you, too, baby.  So very much.  I never stopped looking for you.  I would have spent the rest of my days trying to find you.”

Eleanora drew back from their kiss, only to lean in again, planting more kisses on his forehead, his nose, his temples, his cheeks.  Yoosung gazed at her weakly, but with a passion that set the facets of amethyst ablaze in his eyes.  He drew a ragged breath and closed his eyes.

 _“So tired…”_   He shifted slightly, wincing in pain as he realized that he may have already overexerted himself.

“I know, baby.  Close your eyes and sleep some more.  You need to rest so you can get better.  Don’t worry about anything.  I’ll stay right here by your side.  I’m not going anywhere.”

The nurse came back a short time later with some powerful pain medicine, which she injected into Yoosung’s IV line.  Soon, the tension in his face eased, and he relaxed into a deep sleep, his hand wrapped tightly up in Eleanora’s.

 

* * *

 

11:07pm

 

Eleanora sat in the chair, reading a book.  The room was dark, save for twinkling city lights spilling a faint glow through the window, and the small LED light clipped to the cover of her book, illuminating the pages.  Yoosung was sleeping peacefully, and had been for the past several hours. 

As she turned the page, she sighed contentedly.  She hadn’t felt so relaxed in a very long time.

Her attention was shifting periodically from the book in her hands to her precious, sleeping angel.  Occasionally lifting her gaze from the pages to his sweet face, she reverently admired every feature—the slope of his nose, his impossibly long, dark eyelashes laying softly on the tops of his cheeks.  His perfect, pink lips.  The elegant angle of his jawline, and the narrow point of his chin. 

_He was so beautiful, in every way possible._

He may have been the “baby” of the RFA, and he may have had the reputation of being naïve, whiny, and over-emotional.  But Eleanora knew better.  She knew that, despite his vulnerability, he was  _strong_ …the strongest person she had ever known.  She knew his heart loved harder and more purely than she ever thought humanly possible.  What a miracle to have found someone like him, and to have earned that kind of love. 

Shifting her awareness back to the present, Eleanora realized that tears had fallen down her cheeks, spilling onto the pages of her book.  Quickly, she grabbed a tissue and carefully dabbed at the small, round wet spots forming on the paper.

Suddenly, a shudder caused the bed to shake slightly next to her.  Eleanora quickly closed the book with the tissue inside it, and turned her attention to check on Yoosung. 

“Mmmhhh,” he moaned softly.  Suddenly, his muscles tensed.

“Mmmmh…No…please.  Mmmm…  Eleanora!  NO!   _Don’t hurt her!  No…”_   His voice grew louder and more urgent with each word.  He struggled to sit up, but cried out in pain as his abdominal wound made its presence known.  He collapsed back to the bed with a choked sob, his eyes still closed.

Letting the book fall heedlessly to the floor, Eleanora quickly moved to the edge of the bed, and carefully wrapped her arms around Yoosung, who was trembling with terror and mumbling incoherently as he quietly sobbed.  His eyes were still clenched shut, but tears streamed down his face.  She held him gently, her heart aching as she desperately wanted to chase away the invisible enemy that was attacking his mind.  

“Shhhhh…it’s okay, baby.  It’s just a dream.  I’m here, sweetie.  Everything is okay…”As she cooed soothingly to him, he seemed to calm down; his breathing became slower and regular, and his trembling slowly subsided. 

Dropping the side rail of the hospital bed, Eleanora carefully climbed into the bed and laid right next to Yoosung, and held him securely, but gently, in her arms, one hand softly stroking his hair as she whispered words of love and reassurance into his ear. 

Surrounded by her embrace, Yoosung was able to relax enough to fall into a deep, healing sleep.

* * *

 


	15. A New Year

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's New Year's Eve, and the RFA has much to celebrate!
> 
> Even though it's been just less than a week since Yoosung arrived at the hospital on the brink of death, he has made remarkable progress in his recovery.
> 
> Seven is back, and seems like he's back to his old self. Everyone seems to be doing okay, or at least moving in the general direction of being okay. A week ago, this would have seemed impossible.
> 
> So, Eleanora and Jaehee conspire to throw a little surprise party for Yoosung on the hospital rooftop to ring in a bright new year, filled with hope and love!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will be the last chapter, for now. As inspiration strikes, I might very well add on to this, either moving forward into the story, or taking some side trips to explore areas I've glossed over (Hello....Saeyoung and Saeran, V, Rika, etc.)
> 
> If you have read this entire work, THANK YOU! I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> UPDATE: Since the original posting of this story, I have produced an expanded edition of this work (10 more chapters of angst and drama!!!), and a sequel! Hop on over to my profile page and see "231 Days: The Expanded Edition" and "Sunrise". The series is called "Unbreakable" and will contain at least four works once it's finished. 
> 
> Comments and Kudos keep me writing, so if you like what you see here, let me know! Love to all my readers!!! :)

**Chapter 15: A New Year**

December 31st

* * *

 

10:45am

 

It was New Year’s Eve. 

Two days ago, Yoosung had surgery to repair the bones in his lower left leg that had been broken and left to heal incorrectly.  He was now the proud owner of a repaired tibia and fibula—complete with several screws and plates—and a large cast that went from his knee down to his foot.  Only his toes peeked out from the end.  He would not see the rest of his foot for at least six weeks.  

Eleanora had been the first to sign the cumbersome hunk of plaster on Yoosung's leg.  She decorated it with hand-drawn stars. 

“You  _are_  my shooting star, after all,” she had told him as she painstakingly worked on her masterpiece.

It soon bore the names and doodles of each member of the RFA.  Eleanora even managed to talk Jumin into writing his name, and drawing a paw-print representing his beloved cat, Elizabeth the Third. 

Jaehee drew some yellow butterflies around her name. 

“This brings back memories.  I haven’t signed a friend’s cast since I was in high school,” she said as she finished filling in a tiny yellow wing.  “I feel like I should be too mature for this activity…”

Zen had signed with his best “autograph” handwriting, under which he wrote “May my name on this cast grant you the ability to heal as quickly as I do!” He drew a rudimentary giant winking smiley next to the name. 

“Wow, Zen.  Your drawing stinks.  You should stick to being the canvas, not the painter.” Seven snickered.

“Hey, my forte as an  _artiste_  is in performing, not creating.” Zen retorted with a toss of his long, silver hair. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, anyway.  I think my emoji is cute.  It’s original, like me.”

"I agree," Jaehee chimed in.

The whole group was happy to see Seven, who showed up for a visit the day after Yoosung’s surgery, after being missing-in-action since the night of the rescue.  Not to be outdone, he drew his nickname in large red and yellow block letters across the top of Yoosung’s foot. 

" _Et voilà !_  Now,  _that's_ art!  So good, it belongs in a museum!  Of course, it would have turned out even better if  _someone_  hadn’t been wiggling his toes so much.” 

“Hey, I couldn't help it...it tickled!” Yoosung protested, barely concealing a giggle. 

Yoosung was recovering quickly.  His feeding tube was gone, and he was able to eat small meals.  After just a few days, he was already looking a little more filled out and healthy.  He was down to only one IV line, which provided him with maintenance fluids and pain medication when he needed it.  He had been cleared of any permanent organ damage after a series of scans and tests that had concluded yesterday.  He had also graduated out of the advanced care unit, which meant moving to a much nicer room, with a much nicer view, on the 15th floor.  He was now allowed to have as many visitors as he wanted  _“within reason,”_  the charge nurse in the standard care unit warned.

Dr. Joseph was so pleased with his progress, that there was talk that he would be able to leave the hospital in the next week or two, which was far less time than had previously been expected.  Of course, he would be moving to a rehabilitation facility for at least a few weeks, before he would be ready to go home. 

Psychologically, Yoosung seemed to be surprisingly… _okay_ …at least, so far.  Despite the occasional nightmare, he was remembering less and less about his seven-month ordeal as time passed.  The three mental health professionals who have talked to him concluded that he may be able to forget almost everything about what happened at that abandoned farm in the mountains.  Some people's brains are remarkably resilient and are able to cope with major stress events by simply purging them from memory.  Of course, it had only been a week, and it was entirely possible that any potential fallout could take time to manifest. 

Only time would tell. 

For the time being, Yoosung was blissfully forgetful, and enjoying the time with Eleanora and his friends.  And Eleanora was thankful for that.  Her angel deserves to be happy and free from those horrible memories.

Even as everyone in the RFA was sharing in their joy at Yoosung’s return and recovery, a cloud of worry still lingered.  Nobody knew exactly what happened to Seven during the time he was away…and even though he was back and seemingly okay, there was something  _different_  about him—Eleanora couldn’t quite put a finger on it, but she could see it in his deep, golden eyes.  She wanted to reach out to him, but she thought that the less said, the better.  Maybe someday he’ll open up, but for the time being, Eleanora thought it best, under the circumstances, to leave well enough alone.  Perhaps, he just needed more time to come to terms with everything.

Finally, everyone seemed to be, for the most part, happy and well—or at least, in Yoosung’s case, heading in the direction of being well.  He still needed a lot of medication to keep his pain under control, but he was getting stronger and was able to stay awake and talk to Eleanora and visitors for longer periods of time.  He did have occasional nightmares, but Eleanora could keep most of them away by snuggling up next to him as he slept, holding him tightly in the safety of her loving arms.

 

* * *

 

11:09pm 

 

A little less than an hour before midnight, as Eleanora and Yoosung were playing a game of cards, her phone made a familiar nose—a chat room had opened up.  She looked briefly at the screen.  

 _Everything is ready,_ read the message from Jaehee.  Eleanora put her phone away, and abruptly stood up.

“What’cha doing?”  Yoosung looked at her quizzically.

“I’ve got a surprise for you.”  She smiled playfully, neatly stacking the cards so that they could come back to their game later.

“Huh? What is it?  Hey, where are you going?”

“You’ll see, sweetie…”  With a giggle, Eleanora disappeared into the hallway briefly, and returned with a wheelchair and a nurse.

“Oooh….Are we actually  _going somewhere?”_  Yoosung’s eyes widened with excitement. 

“You'll just have to wait and see!”  Eleanora teased.

With the nurse’s help, and a small pillow to support the healing wound on his abdomen, they soon had him sitting comfortably and securely in the wheelchair, cast propped up on a raised leg rest, and bundled up against the cold with a couple of extra blankets.

“I’d like to push him, if that’s okay,” Eleanora said to the nurse, who nodded with a smile.

“That’s fine, dear.  I know you’ll take good care of him.  Just make sure he doesn’t get too cold, and don’t let him stand up or bear any weight.  If he starts hurting or feeling unwell, bring him back right away, okay?”  Eleanora nodded in agreement.

To Yoosung, the nurse smiled brightly, “Have a good time, Mr. Kim!”

“Thanks!” Yoosung was clearly excited.  Eleanora, standing behind him ready to push the chair, bent down and kissed him lightly on the top of his head.

“Ready?” she asked him.

“Uh-huh!”  He responded eagerly.

They slowly made their way out of the room, past the well-wishing, smiling faces at the nurse’s station, and into the elevator. 

“All the way to the top…” Eleanora said as she pushed the button for the top floor.

Once the elevator arrived, they entered a darkened hallway.  There was a lounge area, with windows on three sides.  The view was incredible—they were far from being in the highest building in the city, but the elevation was more than enough to provide a commanding view of the city skyline.  Stepping through a sliding glass door, they entered a small rooftop courtyard, which was nicely appointed with tables, chairs, outdoor space heaters.  The area was decorated with strings of white lights, and the tables were set with beautiful candle centerpieces in glass hurricane shades. The twinkling lights of the city skyline cut a dramatic glow against the diamond-and-velvet sky.  Eleanora’s breath was taken away by the splendor around her.

“Wow…” she heard Yoosung murmur as he took everything in.  This was the first time he had been outside since the day of his rescue, but he didn’t remember any of that now.

Suddenly, Jumin stepped out from behind them.  Then, Jaehee, then Zen, and Seven all appeared with smiling faces.  They had all been hiding in the shadows of the lounge, waiting to surprise Yoosung—who could not contain the joy that washed over his face.

“Ta-da!  Surprise!” Seven exclaimed, before putting a party whistle in his mouth and blowing on it so hard, it shot from his lips, landing several feet away.  Laughter filled the chilly air.

 _“I meant to do that…”_  he said sheepishly, as he dove to pick it up.

Yoosung looked around at all of his friends.  “Hey...what is all of this?  What are you guys doing here?” He asked, beaming.

“It’s a New Year’s Eve party!”  Eleanora explained, leaning over to kiss his forehead as he looked up at her.  She wheeled him to a table that was within a reasonable distance of one of the heaters.  She then took a seat next to him, leaning over to kiss his cheek.  Caterers, hired by Jumin, brought out a cart of light snacks and drinks.  Two bottles of champagne sat in a silver bucket of ice, next to a line of delicate, flute-shaped crystal glasses.

This was the first time that the group had been able to be together since Eleanora joined the RFA, and everyone had a wonderful time talking and laughing together. 

As midnight neared, everyone gathered together for an incomparable view of the city fireworks over the river.  Eleanora sat next to Yoosung, leaning in next to him so that they could hold each other close.  They shared conversation, as they fed each other delicious morsels and sipped drinks.

“I want this new year to be a new beginning,” Yoosung said softly. “The start of our life together.”

Eleanora answered him by nuzzling his ear with her nose and lips, eliciting from him a tiny gasp.

“I love you…” she whispered into his ear.  Yoosung closed his eyes, completely enraptured.

As the countdown to midnight ended with the magnificent flashes and booms of fireworks and the clinks of champagne glasses, Yoosung’s lips met Eleanora’s in a smoldering New Year’s kiss. 

His lips were so soft, so gentle, and yet sweetly persistent as he tentatively tasted her mouth.  Eleanora had never kissed like this, and she quickly let go of her inhibitions and allowed herself to explore—his delicious lips, his teeth, and his soft, warm tongue.  She breathed him in, reveling in how exquisite his skin, his hair, his mouth smelled and tasted.  Despite both of them being inexperienced at kissing, there was no awkwardness in the way they sincerely sought each other in this moment.

“ _Awww…_ Get a room, you two…” Zen groaned playfully.

“Oh wow…are we jealous much, Zen?”  Seven laughed.  After all, Zen opened himself up for the shot, and Seven was not going to miss the opportunity provide some good-natured teasing to the gorgeous, yet forever-alone narcissist. 

“Yeah, I am, actually.  How tragic is it that a face as gorgeous as mine should ring in the new year without someone special basking in its eternal glory?”  

Seven rolled his eyes and groaned loudly at Zen’s answer.

“There’s nothing wrong with being single, Zen,” Jaehee chimed in, “Remember, your career is better off without the distractions and scandal that a relationship would inevitably bring.”

The banter among friends was barely noticed by Yoosung and Eleanora.  The two of them were tightly wrapped up in each other, and were only aware of their own little universe.  The heat of their connection was more than enough to stave off the chill in the night air.  Finally, they retreated from each other—but only slightly—their foreheads almost touching as glowing amber eyes gazed into ones of pure amethyst.  In that moment, no words were needed to communicate what they felt for each other.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all I've got for now, hope you enjoyed it! I tried to wrap things up into a nice, tidy ending--no cliffhangers! However, I have lots of ideas on how this story can continue, or I may delve a bit into where Seven went when he found out what happened to "Unknown" (Unknown, that is, to everyone, EXCEPT him....)??? Anyway, I really hope you enjoyed my first foray into writing fanfic! I enjoyed writing it (except for the dark parts, which broke my heart, but I thought it was important to show just how deeply broken Saeran's mind was.) If you think I'm any good at this fanfic stuff, let me know--it will give me motivation and inspiration to write more! 
> 
> Love and Hugs to all my readers, and fellow MysMes fans! 
> 
> UPDATE: Since the original posting of this story, I have produced an expanded edition of this work (10 more chapters of angst and drama!!!), and a sequel! Hop on over to my profile page and see "231 Days: The Expanded Edition" and "Sunrise". The series is called "Unbreakable" and will contain at least four works once it's finished. 
> 
> Comments and Kudos keep me writing, so if you like what you see here, let me know! Love to all my readers!!! :)

**Author's Note:**

> FEEDBACK IS WELCOME AND ENCOURAGED!!! 
> 
> I'm super self-conscious about my writing, so encouraging words (if I'm doing it right) or constructive criticism (if I can do better) will help me out immensely! 
> 
> Thank you for reading my works... I love my readers!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [231 Days](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12606944) by [KrypticReaux](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KrypticReaux/pseuds/KrypticReaux)




End file.
